On the seventh day in Hanchuan, the sound of carriage wheels could once again be heard in front of the city gates.
They were not merchant caravans.
Nor were they civilians fleeing the disaster.
They were the first batch of grain carts from the divided granaries, personally escorted by Qin Feng.
Hanchuan’s original granary was located in the west of the city. Although the terrain was elevated, it was too conspicuous and too easy for someone to control. In the past, when Du Wenzhou was there, all the grain registers, grain locks, and documents for entering and leaving the granary had to pass through the Defender’s Office and the transport clerks. It looked like the rules were strict, but in reality, once something went wrong with those few people at the top, all the civilians and soldiers below could only keep their eyes open and wait to die.
Now, Xiao Yuan had ordered the grain to be redistributed.
Part of it remained in the main granary in the west of the city, guarded by Qin Feng’s personal troops; part of it was moved to the rear storehouse of the prefectural office, reserved specifically for the sick, elderly, children, and wounded soldiers; and another portion was sent to the military settlement outside the city, stored separately from the trial planting site as an emergency reserve before the grain route could be opened in the next stage.
This way, even if someone wanted to tamper with Hanchuan’s granaries again, it would be impossible to cut off the entire city’s lifeline in one stroke.
Xia Lanshi sat in a side hall of the prefectural office, with three newly compiled grain ledgers spread out beside him.
One recorded the main grain.
One recorded miscellaneous grains and medicinal food powder.
One recorded emergency supplies and rations for the sick.
These three ledgers could not be kept by the same group of people. They had to be cross-checked with one another every evening. Whenever a sack of grain was taken out, a corresponding entry had to be made in the register. For a border city like Hanchuan, which had relied on old rules to barely hold itself together for years, this method was so cumbersome that it was almost maddening.
Qin Feng had initially hesitated as well.
But he hesitated for only a brief moment before remembering Du Wenzhou lying in the Defender’s Office pretending to be ill, as well as those sacks of grain adulterated with sand and spoiled rice.
So he said nothing more.
Cumbersome was cumbersome.
At least cumbersome rules could keep people alive.
Chi Banyue stood to the side. Watching Xia Lanshi lower his head and check the ledgers, she endured it for quite some time before finally saying, “Half an hour.”
The tip of Xia Lanshi’s brush paused. A drop of ink fell onto the paper, blooming into a black flower.
“What?”
Chi Banyue smiled very gently.
“You’ve already been looking at them for half an hour today. After another half hour, you have to stop.”
Xia Lanshi was silent for a moment before saying, “Doctor Su’s rule is two hours.”
“That was a few days ago.” Chi Banyue pulled a new sheet of paper from her sleeve and unfolded it for him to see. “His Highness brought this back from Guichen Studio last night. The latest addition. Doctor Su said that during the final stage of Hanchuan’s recovery, Xia Lanshi’s daily working hours are to fluctuate according to his physical condition. You must not rigidly adhere to two hours. If your coughing worsens, your fingertips grow cold, or you eat less, the time must be shortened immediately.”
Xia Lanshi stared at that sheet of paper, and for the first time, he truly felt that there was nowhere for him to escape.
“Miss Banyue.”
“Mm?”
“Do you think Doctor Su is being a little overprotective of me?”
Chi Banyue smiled brightly. “No.”
Xia Lanshi: “…”
He slowly put down his brush and picked up the nutritional solution beside him, taking a sip.
The taste was still not very good, but by now he was too lazy to resist, because it was simply futile.
Seeing how willingly he drank it, the smile in Chi Banyue’s eyes instead faded slightly.
She said softly, “Your complexion really is better than it was a few days ago.”
Xia Lanshi lowered his eyes to the ledger.
“Perhaps because I’ve been sleeping more.”
“Or perhaps because someone is keeping an eye on you,” Chi Banyue said. “Before, whenever you got busy, who could stop you?”
Xia Lanshi said nothing.
No one had stopped him before.
It wasn’t that Xiao Yuan hadn’t cared. It was that Xiao Yuan himself had never regarded injuries and illness as important.
The lord and the chief aide were both alike—so long as they could still stand, they could continue moving forward.
But things were different now.
Su Muchen was separated from them by only a single door, yet he had forcibly put reins on both of them.
The reins were not tight. They could even be considered gentle.
Yet they made the two of them realize for the first time that staying alive was not something one could accomplish merely by enduring.
One also needed to be cared for.
Xia Lanshi lowered his head and looked at the white jade peace amulet around his wrist.
In the past, he had thought that whether he lived or died did not matter. He was merely a blade raised by Xiao Yuan. So long as he could be of use to his lord, even if he died, it would not be a pity.
But now, it seemed that something was different.
Someone would save him. Someone would care about him from behind a door, and keep watch over him.
So he felt that he could no longer recklessly ruin this body.
Besides, there were still things he needed to confirm.
Chi Banyue caught sight of his movement. She did not tease him any further and merely said softly, “Things here in Hanchuan are more or less stable. His Highness is going to Qingshi Village tomorrow.”
“Mm.”
“Are you going too?”
Xia Lanshi looked up.
“Naturally.”
Chi Banyue frowned.
“With that broken body of yours, you’ve only just been dragged back from the gates of hell, and now you’re following him into the wind and snow again. If Doctor Su finds out…”
“He’ll find out.” Xia Lanshi interrupted her, his voice still gentle. “His Highness will definitely tell him.”
Chi Banyue was speechless for a moment.
That was indeed true.
Xiao Yuan was now almost excessively candid in front of Su Muchen. He concealed nothing, not even military intelligence reports, down to the point that Xia Lanshi suspected he was only one step away from reporting what he had eaten for all three meals. Especially when it involved injuries, illness, and travel plans, even Xia Lanshi suspected that if he coughed one extra time one day, he would receive three pages of new rules written by Doctor Su the following day.
Thinking of this, he suddenly felt like laughing.
So this was what it was like to be remembered by someone.
It was unexpectedly troublesome.
But it wasn’t bad.
◆◇◆◇◆
The trial planting field at the military settlement outside the city was selected behind a sheltered mountain hollow.
It was not far from Hanchuan City. Low hills surrounded it on all four sides, blocking the wind. Nearby was a small stream that froze in winter and could serve as a water source after the spring snow melted. The soil samples had already undergone an initial assessment by Su Muchen’s side. Although the soil was not particularly fertile, it was much better than the places north of the city where snow accumulated year-round.
Qin Feng brought several personal guards to temporarily fence off the area. To outsiders, they only said that Prince Su had ordered people to survey the military settlement’s spring farming plans and prepare to plant miscellaneous grains the following year. The people of Hanchuan were currently preoccupied with food and rations and paid little attention to these inconspicuous patches of snow.
Only a few selected old military households knew that Prince Su had brought a kind of “overseas tuber.”
It was said that this thing could withstand the cold, could be eaten, and could even serve as grain.
At first, the old military households did not believe it.
In a place like the northern border, where even ordinary wheat struggled to grow, how could some root vegetable no one had ever heard of save people? But they did not dare ask too many questions, because the one who had personally handed the wooden box to them was Xiao Yuan.
Xiao Yuan stood in the snow, watching Qin Feng cut open the seed tubers according to the method Su Muchen had taught him, leaving the buds intact, sprinkling ash over them, and storing them separately.
When cutting the first piece, Qin Feng’s hand was somewhat stiff.
It wasn’t because he did not know how to use a knife.
Rather, this was the first time he had felt that cutting an inconspicuous object was more nerve-racking than killing enemies on the battlefield.
“Your Highness, can this really be planted?”
Xiao Yuan glanced at that small piece of tuber.
“Doctor Su said it can be tried.”
Qin Feng did not ask any further.
These past few days, the four words “Doctor Su said” had already acquired a peculiar weight in Hanchuan.
The elderly and children could not gorge themselves—it was something Doctor Su had said.
Frostbite could not be treated by roasting directly over a fire—it was something Doctor Su had said.
The porridge shelters were to be changed to neighborhood ration distribution—it was something Doctor Su had said.
Now, even whether these never-before-seen overseas tubers could be planted required only a single sentence: “Doctor Su said it can be tried.” That alone made people feel it was at least worth attempting.
He was almost beginning to suspect that Doctor Su was actually an immortal. Perhaps simply mentioning his name could produce immortal power and make anything possible.
Qin Feng looked at those few carefully stored tubers and suddenly said in a low voice, “If it can really grow here in the northern border, then next winter…”
He did not finish.
Because those words were too extravagant.
For a place like Hanchuan, the words “next winter” had originally meant nothing more than enduring through another bitter ordeal. Yet standing in this snowy field at this moment, he found himself, for the first time, developing a faint hope for the next winter.
Xiao Yuan looked toward the distant city walls.
“That is why nothing can happen to it.”
Qin Feng’s expression turned solemn.
“This subordinate understands. This subordinate will personally arrange people to guard this place in shifts. Everyone involved in the trial planting will be registered and forbidden from revealing anything.”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
He reached out and took the small bag of unused seed tubers.
The things were icy cold and rough-skinned, and they even looked somewhat ugly.
But they were the future that Su Muchen had sent from another world.
Xiao Yuan tightened his fingers around them and suddenly thought of the dim yellow lamp in Guichen Studio.
He thought of the way Su Muchen had lowered his head and written, “Live first, then live longer, and only in the end should you strive to live well.”
Perhaps those words were not farming methods.
But they were very much like Su Muchen.
He did not say beautiful things or promise miracles. He simply pulled people back from the road to death, little by little.
◆◇◆◇◆
It took Hanchuan a full two days to clean up the aftermath.
Du Wenzhou was temporarily detained, the personal guards of the Defender’s Office were reorganized, and Qin Feng officially took over Hanchuan’s military affairs. The monks and grain merchants involved with Wanfu Temple were separately detained for interrogation, the grain shop in the eastern district was sealed, and the remaining grain was placed into the public granary. The news that Qingshi Village had lost contact was suppressed, circulating only among the military’s core ranks, lest the people of the city, who had only just stabilized, fall into panic again.
Xiao Yuan wrote a memorial to the imperial court.
This memorial was drafted by Xia Lanshi.
It described Hanchuan’s severe snow disaster, the obstruction of the grain route, the Defender’s illness and failure to properly supervise matters, local grain merchants hoarding grain for profit, and the chaotic management of grain consigned to the temple. The wording was sharp, yet there was restraint everywhere. It did not directly point toward the Crown Prince, but it listed the problems with the Ministry of Revenue’s grain transport, the northern border’s grain transfers, and the local granaries one by one, as though neatly arranging an entire row of knife points before the imperial court.
If the Emperor truly wanted to investigate, he could uncover something.
If the Emperor chose not to investigate, there was no longer any way to cleanly pin the blame for the northern border onto Xiao Yuan.
After reading the memorial, Chi Banyue raised an eyebrow.
“You wrote this very politely.”
Xia Lanshi said softly, “Something written for His Majesty cannot simply be intended to make ourselves feel satisfied.”
“What if it were for the Crown Prince to read?”
Xia Lanshi smiled faintly. His smile was gentle, yet resembled a poisonous flower.
“Then it would not be this polite.”
Chi Banyue clicked her tongue, feeling that when he smiled like this, he indeed no longer looked like a good person.
But she liked it.
On the day the memorial was sent out, the second porridge shelter in Hanchuan City was also converted into neighborhood ration distribution. People had begun sweeping snow from the streets. Several shops that had originally been tightly closed opened their doors a crack again. Although there was little they could sell, some people brought old cloth from home to exchange for charcoal, while others used needle and thread to mend clothes for people.
Hanchuan had not recovered.
But it had begun to move.
On the night before Xiao Yuan left the city, Qin Feng brought several Hanchuan generals and knelt outside the main hall of the prefectural office.
“Your Highness, the Hanchuan garrison is willing to follow Your Highness north.”
Xiao Yuan glanced at him.
“Hanchuan needs people to guard it.”
Qin Feng clenched his fists and said in a low voice, “But Qingshi Village…”
“This King will go.” Xiao Yuan said, “You stay behind. The granaries, porridge shelters, city defenses, trial planting fields, and the Du Wenzhou case—all of them require you to oversee them. If Hanchuan falls into chaos again, then no matter how much this King accomplishes in Qingshi Village, it will be useless.”
Qin Feng fell silent.
He knew Xiao Yuan was right.
Yet watching Prince Su prepare to leave with the troops while he could only remain in Hanchuan still made his chest feel unbearably stifled.
Xia Lanshi said from the side, “General Qin, protecting Hanchuan is the same as protecting His Highness’s retreat.”
Qin Feng looked up.
Xia Lanshi’s voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear.
“If something happens in Qingshi Village, what His Highness needs is not a Hanchuan that has just been saved only to fall into chaos again, but a Hanchuan that can supply grain, receive wounded soldiers, and stabilize the people’s hearts.”
Qin Feng’s heart shook.
After a moment, he bowed his head heavily to the ground.
“This subordinate understands.”
Xiao Yuan personally handed the Hanchuan military command token to him.
“Wait for This King to return.”
Qin Feng’s eyes reddened.
“This subordinate will never fail Your Highness!”
In Guichen Studio, Su Muchen spent the entire night turning through the old book left behind by his grandfather.
The book did not record a complete story. It was more like scattered notes left behind by successive Gatekeepers. Some of the pages had become brittle from the passage of time, and the handwriting was too blurred to make out clearly. He could only barely distinguish several passages.
“When the Gate opens, do not force your way across.”
“Those not permitted by the Gate will lose balance if they pass through.”
“The Gatekeeper may borrow the Gate to observe cause and effect, but must not recklessly alter cause and effect.”
“Only when the Emperor’s blood and the Su family’s blood are both present does the Gate’s path become stable.”
“If the Gate remains open for too long, both realms will hear its voice.”
When Su Muchen reached the last sentence, his fingers slowly stopped.
“Both realms will hear its voice…”
Xiao leaned against the old bookshelf beside him without speaking.
Su Muchen looked up at him.
“What does this mean?”
Xiao was silent for a moment.
“It means that if the Gate remains open for too long, it won’t only be you and Xiao Yuan who can use it.”
Su Muchen’s expression changed slightly.
“Who else?”
“I don’t know,” Xiao said. “Perhaps there are certain people in the two realms who originally should never have noticed the Gate. Perhaps it’s an imbalance in the Gate itself. Or perhaps… something else.”
When he said the words “something else,” his gaze grew heavy.
Su Muchen frowned.
“Something else?”
Xiao did not continue.
Su Muchen felt certain that whatever it was, it could not be anything good. He could already feel a faint ache beginning at his temples.
Before, he had only thought Guichen Studio was troublesome. Only now did he realize that this wasn’t merely trouble at all. It was a massive problem that would continuously escalate with the amount of time and number of times the Gate was used.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.
“So we can’t keep the Gate open for long?”
Xiao nodded.
“The farther north you go, the more unstable the Gate becomes. Hanchuan can barely hold it because there is still a city there and a fixed Gate point. Farther north than Qingshi Village, the snowstorms will be heavier and the deathly aura deeper. The Gate may not be willing to open stably.”
Su Muchen looked toward the old door.
The door stood quietly in the back room, as though it had heard nothing.
But he could no longer regard it as an ordinary door.
“Then how do we communicate after Xiao Yuan goes to Qingshi Village?”
“Open it if we can,” Xiao said. “If we can’t, then wait.”
“Wait?”
Su Muchen’s voice turned cold.
Xiao looked at him, his expression perfectly calm.
“Yes. Wait.”
That word made Su Muchen feel as though something had lodged in his chest.
He hated waiting.
Especially waiting when there was nothing he could do.
These past few days in Hanchuan, he could at least calculate the grain supplies, prepare provisions, organize medicines, and work out planting plans. But if the Gate would not open, he would not even know whether Xiao Yuan had been injured or whether there were still survivors in Qingshi Village.
That feeling of helplessness was irritating just to imagine.
Xiao said softly, “Muchen, the Gate is not a communication device, nor is it a transportation passage. You’ve already done a great deal.”
Su Muchen did not answer.
After a long while, he lowered his head and opened a new notebook.
“Then we’ll prepare in advance.”
Xiao was startled.
Su Muchen spread open the blank pages and wrote down several words.
Qingshi Village Contingency Plan.
“If the Gate can’t remain open for long, we’ll divide everything that might be needed ahead of time. Injuries, frostbite, infection, hypothermia, hunger, drinking water, shelter from snow, simple shelters—write everything into a manual. Divide the supplies into small packs and have Xiao Yuan carry them with him. If we can’t communicate, at least he’ll know what to do in every situation.”
Xiao looked at him.
Su Muchen’s face was somewhat pale, and the dark circles beneath his eyes had grown heavier, yet he did not stop writing.
He wrote one item after another, breaking down all his fears into actionable lists.
As though if he wrote everything in sufficient detail, he could keep the unknown snowstorms of Qingshi Village outside the pages.
Xiao suddenly remembered something from many years ago.
Su Muchen’s grandfather had stood in this very shop, stroked the head of little Su Muchen, and said:
This child is soft-hearted, but not weak.
At the time, he had not understood.
Now, it seemed he did.
Soft-hearted people would be afraid.
People who were not weak would keep moving forward even while afraid.
◆◇◆◇◆
On the night before Xiao Yuan’s departure, he came to Guichen Studio.
This time, he did not bring much news from Hanchuan.
Because everything that needed to be said had already been said.
What he brought was a small wooden box.
Inside the wooden box was a copy of Hanchuan’s first trial-planting register, the divided-granary map Qin Feng had drawn up, and a small handful of dry soil taken from the sheltered mountain hollow.
“Qin Feng asked me to have Doctor Su take a look and see whether it’s suitable.”
Su Muchen took the wooden box and looked down at the handful of soil.
“It is. This plot is suitable for initially trying the tubers.”
After saying this, Su Muchen did not immediately put the wooden box away. Instead, he took out another stack of papers from beside him and placed it in front of Xiao Yuan.
Xiao Yuan lowered his head and looked at them.
Several large characters were written across the page.
Methods for Eating and Storing Tubers.
Xiao Yuan was slightly startled.
Su Muchen seemed to have anticipated this reaction. Expressionless, he said, “Being able to grow them is only the first step. Knowing how to eat and store them is what can actually save lives. If these things are stored improperly, they’ll sprout. If they’ve sprouted badly or turned green, they must not be eaten carelessly. They can cause poisoning. They need to be kept somewhere cool, dry, and away from light. Don’t soak them in water, and don’t pile them up in an overly damp cellar. If you’re keeping them for seed, separate those as well. Don’t mix them with the ones meant for eating.”
Xiao Yuan looked at those several pages with an expression even more serious than when he had looked at the grain registers earlier.
Su Muchen wrote down several of the simplest methods on the paper.
Boiled tubers, roasted tubers, mashed tubers, tuber cakes, tubers stewed with meat, dried tubers.
As he wrote, he explained, “The simplest way is to steam or boil them until cooked. They can be eaten directly. Slice them and sun-dry or dry them with heat, and they’ll keep longer. During wartime, you can add them to porridge or soup. Mash them for the elderly and children, but they still shouldn’t eat too much at once. Stew them with meat, salt, and dried vegetables. It’ll taste much better and provide more energy. If production increases in the future, they can also be made into cakes, which will be convenient to carry on marches.”
As Xiao Yuan listened, he suddenly asked, “You’ve eaten them?”
“Of course.” Su Muchen looked up at him as though he found the question rather unnecessary. “They’re a very common food where I come from.”
After saying that, he paused, seemingly remembering something, then turned and went into the small kitchen at the back.
Xiao Yuan stood where he was. Before he had a chance to ask, he saw Su Muchen come out of the kitchen carrying several small bowls and a plate. Several kinds of freshly prepared food were arranged on the plate. The heat had not yet dissipated, carrying a warm fragrance distinctly different from rice and wheat.
“I happened to try making several kinds.” Su Muchen placed the plate on the table, his tone deliberately indifferent. “Before you take them back, you should first know what they’re supposed to taste like.”
Xiao Yuan lowered his head.
One bowl contained finely mashed tubers mixed with a little salt and oil, its color a soft, warm yellow. One plate held tuber cakes fried until slightly browned, their edges thin and crisp. Another bowl contained tubers stewed with meat. The broth was clear, the fragrance of meat mingling with that of the tubers. Under the dim yellow light of Guichen Studio, it looked exceptionally warm.
Xiao leaned against the side and drawled lazily, “Muchen spent the entire afternoon busy. He said he was testing dishes, but in the end, every single one was plated so seriously.”
Su Muchen shot him a cold look.
“Do you want me to sew your mouth shut again?”
Xiao smiled and stopped exposing him.
Xiao Yuan looked at the dishes on the table, then at Su Muchen.
“You made them yourself?”
Su Muchen felt somewhat uncomfortable under his gaze. He lowered his head and stuffed the chopsticks into his hand.
“It’s just simple preparation. It’s nothing. Try them and remember the taste. If the people on your side make them too strangely in the future, at least you’ll know where the problem is.”
Xiao Yuan took the chopsticks and first picked up a small piece of tuber cake.
The outside was slightly crisp, while the inside was soft. It had a faint sweetness along with the fragrance of salt. The taste was unfamiliar to him, but not unpleasant. In fact, it was easier to eat than much of the army’s dry rations.
He took another bite of the tubers stewed with meat.
When the hot broth entered his throat, it seemed to suppress some of the cold and snowy air Hanchuan had brought with it.
Xiao Yuan lowered his eyes and remained silent for a long while.
Thinking the taste did not suit him, Su Muchen frowned and asked, “Not good?”
Xiao Yuan raised his eyes to look at him.
“Very good.”
Su Muchen paused.
Xiao Yuan said softly, “Very warm.”
The words seemed to be about more than just the food.
Su Muchen’s fingertips curled slightly. He immediately picked up the papers beside him and pretended to inspect the recipes he had written.
“As long as you can eat it, that’s enough. If it can be grown in the northern border in the future, don’t treat it merely as some rare delicacy. Teach the people at the military settlement how to eat it, how to dry it, and how to save seed. And don’t rely entirely on it just because it can fill your stomach. Ideally, combine it with miscellaneous grains, vegetables, and meat. Eating only one kind of food for too long will also cause problems.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him lowering his head to write, a faint smile in his eyes.
“Doctor Su even has to manage how we eat.”
“Of course.” Su Muchen did not even raise his head. “If you don’t know how to eat it, growing it will only be a waste.”
Xiao Yuan gave a low laugh.
He finished the bowl of mashed tubers and slowly ate half of another tuber cake. They were clearly nothing more than several ordinary dishes, yet he ate very slowly, as though committing a certain taste to memory.
It was not the taste of Dasheng.
It was the taste of Guichen Studio.
It was the warmth of another world that Su Muchen had personally handed to him.
After they finished eating, Su Muchen carefully folded those several pages of recipes and placed them together with the trial-planting instructions. Then he added a line at the very top.
Tubers can relieve famine, but must not be deified. Planting, storing, eating, and saving seed—none can be omitted.
He handed the stack of papers to Xiao Yuan.
“Take it back. Let Qin Feng and the people conducting the trial planting read it. Xia Lanshi can read it too, but don’t let him stay up all night studying this.”
A hint of amusement appeared in Xiao Yuan’s eyes again.
“I’ll tell him.”
Su Muchen immediately added, “Don’t say I specifically told you to.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
“All right. I won’t.”
Xiao lightly coughed from the side.
The tips of Su Muchen’s ears grew hot again. He simply gathered the bowls and plates from the table and turned back toward the kitchen.
Xiao Yuan watched his back. The thin stack of recipes in his hand suddenly felt very heavy.
He thought that if one day the northern border truly became covered in tubers, if the people of Hanchuan could boil a pot of hot soup in winter, and if the soldiers could receive a piece of tuber cake during their marches, perhaps they would never know that all of this had originally begun on a night inside a run-down little shop.
It had begun with several hot dishes personally made for him by someone who was hard-mouthed but soft-hearted.
Then he pushed a thick package toward Xiao Yuan.
“Qingshi Village Contingency Plan.”
Xiao Yuan opened it and glanced inside.
It contained not only medicine and dried rations, but also a stack of papers.
Each sheet was organized according to a specific situation.
What to do if someone suffered frostbite.
What to do if someone became hypothermic.
What to do if a wound became infected.
How to keep warm temporarily in the snow.
How to boil snow water.
How to identify water that was unsafe to drink.
How to gradually resume feeding someone who had been starving for too long.
Every page was written extremely clearly, and some even had simple illustrations.
When Xiao Yuan reached the end, he saw a single sheet placed separately.
There were only several lines written on it.
If the Gate won’t open, save the person in front of you first.
If supplies are insufficient, prioritize the elderly, children, the injured and sick, and those capable of maintaining order.
If you are injured, stop the bleeding first, then worry about being tough.
If you cannot make contact within three days, be sure to preserve the fire, the seed grain, and the people’s morale.
The final line had been heavily circled with a black pen by Su Muchen.
—Stay alive. Don’t gamble with your life.
Xiao Yuan looked at it for a long time.
Su Muchen felt somewhat uncomfortable under his gaze and said softly, “You may not necessarily need all of this when the situation becomes urgent, but taking it with you is better than having nothing.”
Xiao Yuan carefully put the stack of papers away, his movements gentle.
“I’ll take it with me.”
Su Muchen nodded.
There were actually still many things he wanted to say.
He wanted to ask exactly how far Qingshi Village was.
He wanted to ask whether the Gate could still open there.
He wanted to ask whether he would bring Xia Lanshi with him.
He wanted to ask how he planned to deal with bandits and fake refugees if they encountered them.
But in the end, all those questions were suppressed.
Because he knew that Xiao Yuan already had everything under control.
Xiao Yuan was not someone who needed him to remind him of every single step.
All he could do was pass along the knowledge and supplies from another world, and then trust that Xiao Yuan could walk the rest of the road himself.
That kind of trust was not easy.
It was harder than calculating grain supplies.
Xiao Yuan looked at him and suddenly asked, “Are you afraid?”
Su Muchen was startled.
“Of what?”
“That the Gate might not open. Or that it might open unstably. If there is an ambush in Qingshi Village, I may not be able to come over every day as I did in Hanchuan.”
Su Muchen was silent for a while.
“Afraid.”
His answer was very straightforward.
Xiao Yuan, on the other hand, was momentarily stunned.
Su Muchen looked up at him.
“But being afraid is useless. You have to go, and I can’t stop you. So all I can do is prepare everything I can, and leave the rest to you.”
Xiao Yuan felt as though something had pressed heavily against his heart.
He had seen too many people pretending not to be afraid.
He had also seen too many people wrapping their fear in righteousness, loyalty, and destiny.
But Su Muchen admitted that he was afraid, calmly and clearly.
Afraid, but unwilling to retreat.
That was harder than being fearless.
Xiao Yuan said quietly, “I’ll come back.”
Su Muchen looked at him.
“You promised.”
“Mm.” Xiao Yuan said, “I remember.”
The two of them were silent, facing each other for a moment.
When white light began to shine through the crack of the door, Su Muchen suddenly reached out and fastened a button at the front of Xiao Yuan’s cloak.
The movement was light and quick.
Afterward, he himself seemed to freeze for a moment before immediately withdrawing his hand.
“It’s… cold outside.”
Xiao Yuan lowered his head and looked at the button he had fastened.
It was only a tiny gesture.
It could not even be considered intimate.
Yet at this moment, he suddenly felt that it made him more afraid to act recklessly than any words could have.
Because the gesture was too much like concern.
Too much like a farewell.
Xiao Yuan’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, and something deep in his heart was quietly touched.
“Muchen.”
Su Muchen looked up.
Xiao Yuan looked at him. Countless words surged in his chest, but in the end, they turned into only one quiet promise.
“Wait for me to come back.”
Su Muchen did not avert his gaze.
“Okay.”
This time, it was his turn to say okay.
A dark tide stirred faintly in Xiao Yuan’s eyes, but in the end, he merely looked deeply at him before turning around and stepping through the Gate.
White light swallowed his figure.
After the door closed, Guichen Studio became almost unnaturally quiet.
Su Muchen stood where he was, his fingers still slightly curled, as though they still retained the chill from touching the cloak moments ago.
Xiao stood not far away and said softly, “The Gate may not open smoothly over at Qingshi Village.”
Su Muchen did not turn around.
“I know.”
“Then why did you still let him go?”
Su Muchen lowered his eyes.
“…He’s not someone I can keep locked behind a door.”
Xiao fell silent.
Su Muchen walked back behind the counter and reorganized the copy of the Qingshi Village contingency plan. Then, at the very top, he wrote another line.
—During the waiting period, continue preparing the second round of support.
After writing it, he put down his pen and looked up at the door.
The door was as quiet as though it had never opened.
But Su Muchen knew that on the other side, someone was carrying his papers, his medicine, and his provisions, walking deeper into the wind and snow.
He was afraid.
But he would wait.
Because this was a path he had chosen himself.
◆◇◆◇◆
Outside Hanchuan City, the sky was beginning to brighten.
Xiao Yuan mounted his horse.
Qin Feng led the Hanchuan garrison in formation to see him off.
Xia Lanshi sat inside the carriage, wrapped in a thick cloak, a hand warmer held in his arms. Beside him were the nutritional solutions newly prepared by Su Muchen, along with several rolls of battle reports.
Chi Banyue rode alongside them. There was less of her usual smile between her brows, replaced by more of the coldness of someone about to enter the game.
When the city gates opened, the people of Hanchuan stood on both sides of the road. No one made a loud commotion.
They merely watched the Prince Su’s procession in silence.
Some held children in their arms.
Some leaned on wooden staffs.
Some still held the grain sacks they had just received.
Xiao Yuan pulled on the reins and looked back at this city that had only just survived a dead end.
Hanchuan had not died.
But the northern border was not yet alive.
He withdrew his gaze and looked north.
Toward Qingshi Village, the clouds hung low and dark, and the snowstorm had yet to disperse.
Xiao Yuan raised his hand.
“Set out.”
Hooves shattered the thin layer of snow.
The procession left Hanchuan, heading toward the deeper reaches of the northern border.