In the cold and desolate palace, autumn winds brushed through the fallen leaves after the rain. The latest imperial concubine of this dynasty, Yan Dongwu, sat beneath a parasol tree, recounting amusing tales from the alleys to the empress dowager, who embodied grace and dignity. Their bond was free of taboos, and their harmony far exceeded what outsiders could imagine. Bei Liang, a great lady second only to Xu Weixiong, smiled as she mentioned the custom of writing poetry on red leaves. The gentle and refined prince immediately picked up a freshly fallen parasol leaf that had not yet been swept away, stood up formally, and bowed, saying, “My lady, I beg you to compose a poem for me. I shall grind the ink for you at once.”
Beside them sat the empress Zhao Zhi, adorned in a phoenix headdress and flowing robes. Though her beauty was unremarkable, her dignified and elegant demeanor earned her the emperor’s deep respect. Over the years, they had lived together in mutual admiration. During his rare moments of leisure from state affairs, the emperor would even personally paint her eyebrows. As for Zhao Zhi’s skill in managing the harem with a balance of firmness and grace, it was truly fearsome to all the favored concubines. Not long ago, one concubine had been banished to the cold palace, where she wept daily in Changchun Palace. Desperate, she secretly spent 300 taels of gold to commission a sorrowful and sentimental poem, only to find it ultimately delivered to the emperor by the empress herself. The result was obvious—she would remain in Changchun Palace until age and sorrow took their toll.
Watching the playful banter between the prince and his consort, Zhao Zhi’s lips curled slightly. She gave a stern glance to her son, regarded as the weakest among the princes in terms of ancestral vigor. Her expression was fierce without anger, and her tone subtly revealed a secret, “He has no sense of propriety and lags far behind his wife in talent. He doesn’t even try to improve himself.”
The prince, known for his refined reputation in the capital, sighed helplessly, “A woman’s virtue lies in her lack of talent. Mother, you should scold Dongwu instead. She has more than enough talent to serve as the head of the Imperial Academy or a senior palace official.”
Yan Dongwu also gave him a sharp glare, just like the empress, and pinched him under the table.
Zhao Zhi reached out and gently tapped her son’s forehead, “Are you trying to criticize me by criticizing her? Or are you criticizing both of us?”
When the prince smiled, his handsome face radiated a warmth that brought comfort to the heart. Such a refined man, born into an imperial family, was enough to drive the noble daughters of the capital into a frenzy. When he married Yan Dongwu, a woman from Beiliang and daughter of a Beiliang official, the entire capital was stunned. Yet, time proved their compatibility. Dongwu’s appearances at palace banquets were always flawless, earning nods of approval from the seasoned political foxes of the capital. Taking Dongwu’s cool hand, the prince faced Empress Zhao Zhi and smiled, “I scolded both of you. Both of you are extremely talented. As for me, I’m just a disgraceful wretch who brings shame to my mother. But to me, you two are the two most beloved women in the world. I love my mother more here, and when I return home, I love my wife more.”
Zhao Zhi teased, “If the literati heard that, I wonder how you’d explain yourself!”
The prince sighed, “That stubborn girl, I’ve truly wasted twenty years worrying over her. She visits my younger brothers more than she visits me these days.”
Zhao Zhi remained calm, “Once she marries and faces some hardships, she’ll know who truly cares for her.”
The prince shook his head, “I can’t bear to see her suffer. It pains me too much.”
Zhao Zhi smiled again, “You’re not thinking before you speak. You still have your wife right here. Who pities a younger sister for a lifetime? Besides, your concern won’t help her.”
Yan Dongwu softly said, “Princess Sui Zhu has a truly gentle nature.”
Zhao Zhi nodded.
The prince picked up a withered yellow leaf and sighed, “What a cool autumn this is.”
Suddenly, the overcast sky rumbled with thunder without warning.
The prince frowned, “It sounds like winter thunder.”
Zhao Zhi, who cherished cleanliness in her vision, gently brushed a freshly fallen parasol leaf from the table and gazed toward the west with narrowed eyes.
As the prince listened to the thunder, he smiled and quietly let go of the autumn leaf in his hand.
※※※
After Gu Jiantang annihilated the two Spring and Autumn states, he was appointed Minister of War with the rank of First Class General following Xu Xiao’s enfeoffment as a king of a different surname. This placed him above the other five ministries’ chancellors, making him the nominal supreme military commander of the Liyang Dynasty, second only to the six feudal princes. Alongside him were the Chief Minister Zhang Julu and the rebel leader Sun Xiji, who held equal rank. Last year, he was dispatched to the northern frontier to personally oversee all border affairs and had rarely attended court sessions since. However, no one dared suggest removing him from his post out of “consideration” for his weariness. The Ministry of War remained a fortress of Gu Jiantang’s faction, impervious to outside influence.
As a top-tier border official and leader of the Gu faction, aside from his previous duty of staying overnight in the palace, Gu Jiantang had never privately interacted with Zhang Julu. This time, upon returning to the capital, he surprisingly visited the Chief Minister’s residence openly and unapologetically, indifferent to whether the emperor suspected collusion between civil and military officials or between frontier generals and capital officials. Such taboos, which had always terrified past powerful ministers, were mere trifles to Gu Jiantang. The general arrived in plain clothes, accompanied by Yuan Tingshan, a new junior officer who might be his adopted son or son-in-law. From behind the doors of the residences of other high-ranking officials on the same street, many pairs of eyes watched intently. Once Gu the Minister stepped out of Zhang Julu’s residence, they quickly reported back to their masters waiting for news.
Not more, not less—exactly half an hour. Not even enough time to drink two cups of tea! What important military or state matters could they have discussed?
Inside the carriage, Yuan Tingshan, who had been aimlessly wandering around the residence, sat beside the general. He could detect no clues on the face of this top-ranked swordsman in the world, whose expression remained as bland as a plain steamed bun, greatly disappointing Yuan, who had hoped for a fiery confrontation.
Yuan Tingshan, known for his impatience, found the silent carriage unbearable. No sooner had they left the street, where every mansion housed a mighty figure of the dynasty, than he blurted out, “General, what was that all about?”
Gu Jiantang ignored him.
Though Yuan was usually a reckless troublemaker, he showed some restraint in front of General Gu, whom he genuinely admired for his military achievements and martial prowess. Once, he had greatly admired the “Butcher of Widows,” Xu Xiao, but after being severely wounded by a young immortal swordsman in Jiangnan, he gave up on ever connecting with Xu Xiao and instead pursued Gu Jiantang. Now, Yuan muttered, “Fine, don’t tell me. I don’t care anyway.”
Gu Jiantang said calmly, “You don’t need to concern yourself with the northern martial world anymore. I’ll send you to Ji Prefecture.”
Yuan frowned, “Ji Prefecture? That’s the old stronghold of the Han family, known for their loyalty. I heard Zhang Julu had them executed to assert authority, and you weren’t exactly innocent in that, were you?”
Gu Jiantang gave Yuan a sidelong glance, and Yuan instinctively shrank back, muttering, “All officials are ruthless anyway. How many people have I killed compared to you? Not even worth mentioning!”
Gu Jiantang’s tone remained unchanged, “Once you’re in Ji Prefecture, you don’t need to report your killings to me. I’ll handle any reports from the court.”
Yuan was delighted, “Really?”
Gu Jiantang closed his eyes.
Yuan grinned, “When there’s a big war, don’t promote me to a high rank. Otherwise, I’ll make sure Beiliang regrets it. I’ve got a deadly grudge with that Xu brat, the heir to the Beiliang throne.”
Gu Jiantang’s eyes remained closed, but a mocking smile crept onto his face, “You? You think you can take him on?”
Yuan leaned back against the carriage wall, hands behind his head, his eyes dark with menace, “One day, I’ll find out whose blade is sharper.”
Gu Jiantang said slowly, “That day may never come.”
Yuan was stunned, “General, what do you mean by that?”
Gu Jiantang’s smile was neither warm nor cold, chilling Yuan to the bone.
“Watching tigers fight from the mountain—this time, even the watchers will have to come down.”
※※※
As the strategic gateway to the western frontier, the Jian Ge fortress housed a significant force of battle-hardened troops, a mix of infantry and cavalry. Of the 8,000 infantry, most were remnants of factions from the Spring and Autumn Wars, many of them former subordinates of General Gu Jiantang, with fewer from the Yan Chi Wang faction.
The 8,000 cavalry were divided into three competing factions. One group of 3,000 cavalry, orphaned and isolated, was led by General Wang Zhi, a commander who rose through the ranks solely by merit. He often led small groups of elite cavalry deep into the western territories to hunt enemies, his hands stained with blood so dark it was almost black. He was unpopular among his peers and was currently leading his 3,000 cavalry in a campaign against highland bandits.
Another 3,000 cavalry were led by a general not officially aligned with Gu Jiantang’s faction but considered a traditional capital-appointed officer who climbed the ranks through court connections. He represented the outsider faction in Jian Ge.
The remaining 2,000 cavalry were native to the Jianmen Pass, led by General He Yan, a fence-sitter who had always struggled to assert himself. With fewer troops and a leader lacking backbone, these 2,000 cavalry, though skilled in battle, rarely saw action or gained rewards. Surprisingly, despite the complex web of rivalries and betrayals among the factions in Jian Ge, these 2,000 cavalry somehow managed to survive, straddling the fence without falling.
The nominal commander of the 8,000 infantry was General Ruan Dacheng, a loyal follower of Gu Jiantang. Today, he watched helplessly as 2,000 cavalry under He Yan suddenly broke camp and rode westward. Back in the barracks, he cursed He Yan’s ancestors to the eighteenth generation and ordered his strategist to draft a formal complaint to the Ministry of War, accusing He Yan of leaving without cause.
But as he dictated the letter, pausing near the end, Ruan Dacheng suddenly stopped. He had always known He Yan to be cunning and slippery—why would he act so recklessly? Earlier, when Ruan had tried to intercept them, the 2,000 cavalry had charged straight ahead, ready to kill anyone who stood in their way. Ruan had feared a mutiny and wisely stepped aside. Now, thinking back, he reconsidered. He picked up the letter and slowly burned it with a fire stick, telling the astonished scribe, “Write a secret letter instead. Find a trustworthy courier and send it to the Minister at full speed.”
Suddenly, a pale, clean-shaven man in imperial robes burst into the tent. Ruan was first angered by his guards’ incompetence, but upon recognizing the man’s face, he quickly shifted to shock and unease. The man was clearly a high-ranking eunuch from the palace. Without a word, the eunuch stomped his foot and shouted, “Useless! Why didn’t you stop He Yan’s 2,000 cavalry?!”
Ruan stood frozen, trying to think of a way to make amends.
The eunuch, who had served the empress for many years, turned sharply and left, throwing one last line that made Ruan’s legs tremble, “Ruan Dacheng, prepare to be expelled from Jian Ge! You’re a disgrace!”
Stunned and confused, Ruan stood still for a long time before regaining his senses. Alone in the tent, the real-power general could only curse in his heart, “Damn it! Does that eunuch even have balls?!”
Beyond the Jianmen Pass, 2,000 cavalry thundered like a flood.
Far ahead, a man in a flowing red robe, his silver hair whipping in the wind, rode with an air of supreme arrogance.
He had once stopped Cao Changqing three times at the gates of the Liyang palace.
Once, the great swordsman had been only a hundred steps from the emperor.
Yet each time, this supreme eunuch had blocked his path.
※※※
Earlier, Baihuerlian had descended from the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion, even drawing the attention of the Beiliang King.
Xu Xiao chuckled, “Are you leaving already?”
Baihuerlian replied calmly, “Just stepping out for some fresh air. I’ll be back soon.”
Xu Xiao naturally tucked his hands into his sleeves, “Not counting that, right?”
Baihuerlian nodded, “Of course.”
On this day, Nan Gong Puyan, hailed as the most beautiful woman in the world, left Liangzhou and vanished without a trace.
※※※
Almost simultaneously, in the vast western lands, a lone rider moved slowly.
A white-clad man carried a long, deep purple spear.
The spearhead was not yet attached, making it resemble a staff.
The spear was named Plum Wine.
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