Chapter 14: What Fear Have I of the Wind’s Blade Cutting the Frost?

The autumn wind blew in from where the grass tassels swayed, golden gusts failing to ripen the wheat but instead intoxicating the soldiers’ flushed faces.

“How impoverished it is!” A soldier muttered beside his horse.

Indeed, after entering the pass, the landscape was desolate, with few signs of human life, as if we had stepped into a wasteland. Tightening the reins, I gazed out at the endless expanse of withered grass stretching as far as the eye could see. In the distant horizon, faint wisps of smoke weakly dissolved into the air. Was this truly the once-prosperous land of Jing, famed for its “single vein flowing into the azure clouds, three rivers encircling spring fields”?

This sight brought to mind memories of You Country from ten years ago. I sighed softly: It seemed the King of Jing had long lost his way.

Min Pass remained silent, the great road spoke no words, and every grain of sand enacted a silent pantomime. The twilight in the western sky gathered a lavish procession of colors, oblivious to the mood of the drifting clouds. Standing before the main tent, I watched the dark-skinned soldiers busily setting up camp. My expression softened slightly as the evening mist enveloped the sky and the slanting sun dimmed the earth. No matter how the frontier winds blew, they seemed to harmonize into a mournful tune, as though lamenting the bodies that would soon be forever absent.

“Qingqing.” A deep voice called from within the tent. Turning around, I entered to find my brother holding a yellow silk scroll, his brows furrowed tightly. What was wrong? Glancing casually, I saw Yunzhi watching me solemnly, the usual mischief gone from his gaze. Even so, he still made me wary, prompting me to retreat a few steps, maintaining a distance of about ten paces. “Brother, what is it?” I asked quietly, tilting my head.

My brother let out a long sigh and handed me the scroll. Taking it, I carefully read through its contents, slightly startled.

“General.” Clerk Ding entered the tent.

“Ding Qian, did you write the battle report for Fan City?” My brother’s tone was slightly subdued.

Ding Qian raised his head and looked directly at us, his gaze somewhat perplexed. “It was written by this subordinate. May I ask if there is something amiss?”

“You included Yunqing as well?” Yunzhi tapped the desk lightly, glancing sidelong.

Ding Qian’s brows furrowed slightly as he studied us. “Yes, the victory at Fan City was largely due to Lord Feng’s brilliant strategy. It was only natural for me to meticulously record it and present it to His Majesty.”

As a result, the King of Qing bestowed upon me such an official position.

“What of it?” Ding Qian cautiously glanced at my brother. “Does the General find it inappropriate?”

“There is nothing inappropriate,” my brother said calmly. “Only...”

“Only—” Yunzhi quickly interjected, his gaze flickering toward me with a hint of a smile, one eyebrow raised. “Only, Feng Yunqing is my retainer. Being suddenly granted the rank of Fourth Rank Langzhong has certainly surprised this prince.”

Upon hearing this, I frowned. Why had he placed me under his command? Wasn’t he supposed to be concealing his ambitions?

“I see,” Ding Qian’s eyes flashed with a suspicious gleam. “It was indeed my oversight not to report this beforehand to Your Highness. Please forgive me, Your Highness.”

“Alas, the clerk has been diligent in his duties. There is no fault to speak of,” Yunzhi replied smoothly, his hand supporting his face as he smiled charmingly. “Father bestowed upon General Wang the title of Third Rank Military Commander. Clerk, on behalf of this prince and General Han, please extend our congratulations.”

“Yes.” Ding Qian accepted the yellow silk scroll I handed over with both hands, bowed, and retreated from the tent.

After he had left for a short while, my brother turned urgently and spoke quickly: “Your Highness…”

“Zhusu.” Yunzhi narrowed his eyes sharply, his gaze piercing. “This Ding Qian is Father’s man.”

I was slightly surprised, and my brother visibly startled.

Yunzhi stood up, clasped his hands behind his back, and nodded slightly toward the outside of the tent. Liu Yao, standing by the entrance, swiftly drew the tent flap down. Only then did Yunzhi turn back, his eyes gleaming with intensity: “Father has reigned for twenty-three years and weathered numerous factional struggles. Zhusu, you have served in the court for over seven years. Have you ever seen the upper cabinet mired in such quagmires?”

My brother’s eyes widened abruptly, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“No matter how the Tai Cabinet and Shu Cabinet fought, Father always firmly held the reins of military power. Thus, these so-called factional struggles were merely tools for Father to maintain balance.” He slowly clenched his fist and chuckled softly. “I have always been confident in my ability to discern people. This clerk, Ding Qian, must surely be Father’s eyes and ears within the military camp. After the battle of Fan City, when Ding Qian presented the battle report, the sudden emergence of Yunqing must have caused Father considerable distress.” He looked deeply at me. “Which faction does this person belong to? This question must surely trouble Father’s peace of mind: the individual’s identity remains unclear. If given a military post, it might shake the foundation of the upper cabinet. If not, then during wartime, the lack of talent would be regrettable.” His thin lips curled upward. “Thus, a position as a Fourth Rank Minister of Rites overseeing military ceremonies was bestowed, ensuring that no wolves are invited into the fold while still keeping him useful.” His peach-blossom eyes narrowed halfway. “Truly, a brilliant move.”

I glanced at him sideways and coldly asked, “Then why claim that I am your retainer?”

A faint smile spread across his handsome face. “Do you think those spies are deaf, unable to hear the rumors circulating among the three armies?” I froze; the King of Qing probably already knew. “Rather than letting Father secretly investigate the relationship between you and me, it’s better to openly acknowledge it. This way, deeper scrutiny can be avoided, and Zhusu can escape suspicion.”

“This is chaos!” My brother exclaimed anxiously, leaping to his feet. “For a woman to hold office—what a monumental absurdity!” He paced hurriedly for two steps. “In a few days, when the next battle comes, we’ll report that Qingqing fell in battle and settle this matter quickly.”

“Fell in battle?” Yunzhi chuckled softly. “A newly appointed Fourth Rank official dying on the battlefield—Zhusu, you’re just handing tongues ammunition to wag against us.” He lifted his brocade robe elegantly and sat down. “You know full well that the rebellious Yang Prefect is actually Seventh Brother’s man. How can we afford any slip-ups at this moment? If Rong Xiang accuses you in the grand hall of lax supervision or jealousy of talent, even if you achieve a great victory, it will be hard to cover up the mistake.”

Indeed, all previous major battles had been complete victories. If Feng Yunqing alone were to die, the King of Qing might suspect my brother of playing tricks and deliberately excluding others. If my brother were to lose the King’s trust, his precarious position in this bloodless struggle for succession would become even more perilous.

“In fact, what seems like a great absurdity can also become a great fortune,” Yunzhi tapped the armrest lightly, raising his eyes to look at us, his gaze sharp. “Six months—in the imperial court for six months, Qingqing, are you afraid?”

What scheme was he plotting now? I coolly observed him, remaining silent.

He confidently glanced at me and my brother: “Six months from now, this prince will restore General Han Baiqing’s heir to the light of day!”

Stunned, my eyebrows trembled as my mind began unraveling the threads: Han Yue Sha wasn’t hiding Han Yue Xiao, but Ling Yiran’s ambition. If it weren’t for the fear of the powerful maternal clans of the third and seventh princes growing wary too soon, if it weren’t for his need to conceal his true self and subtly lay out his chess pieces, my brother wouldn’t have needed to adopt a false name. Now, deceiving the sovereign had already been committed, and Han Yue Sha’s identity was like a dangerous string ready to snap and take my brother’s life at any moment. The only solution was to help Yunzhi ascend the throne, allowing Han Yue Xiao to step back into the light. With that, I could set sail on the rivers and lakes, departing with peace of mind.

Thinking thus, I took a deep breath and firmly responded: “Alright.”

“Your Highness!” My brother snapped back to attention, speaking urgently. “If others discover that Qingqing is a woman disguised as a man serving in the court, that would be a crime of deceiving the sovereign!”

“Zhusu.” Yunzhi’s eyes overflowed with intense pressure. “This prince guarantees her safety.”

I walked over to my brother’s side and looked up at him. “Brother, rest assured. Qingqing knows what she’s doing.” Seeing him frown and about to speak, I quickly grasped his sturdy hand. “We still have to avenge our parents under the names of Han Yue Xiao and Han Yue Xia. Have you forgotten? The blood oath we swore ten years ago by the river Le Shui?”

His deep eyes brimmed with murderous intent as he gripped my hand tightly in return: “One day, we will cross the river.”

“Looking northwest, shooting the celestial wolf!” We murmured simultaneously, our voices filled with boundless sorrow and unwavering resolve.

“General! General!” A loud shout came from outside the tent.

My brother loosened his grip and called out, “What is the matter?”

The tent flap was pushed open, and an officer rushed in. “Reporting to the General, the military provisions have caught fire!”

“What?!”

Looking at the grain carts with black smoke gradually dying down, I felt a slight sense of relief: It was just a small spark.

“General, it was these two!”

Following my brother’s earlier instructions, I looked over in surprise: The ones who set the grain on fire were ignorant children?

The two emaciated children were picked up, their faces sallow, eyes brimming with intense hatred. My brother narrowed his eyes and slowly raised his right hand. The two children curled up in fear, closing their eyes tightly. But the expected heavy blow did not come; instead, my brother gently touched their dry, yellow hair. “How long has it been since you last had grain to eat?”

The taller child suddenly opened his eyes wide and struggled to get down from the soldier’s grasp. “Who are you! Why should I tell you!” He stood tall and proud, very stubborn.

“You little brat! How dare you be disrespectful to the General!” A nearby soldier picked up a stick to strike, but my brother raised his hand to stop him. Then he lowered his head and smiled faintly. “Do you want to eat?”

The other boy swallowed hard, his face full of hunger, and stammered, “Food?”

“Dog Dan!” The taller one glared at him angrily. “Have you forgotten how your father died?!” The child froze upon hearing this, took two steps back, and became alert.

“How did he die?” My brother asked calmly without anger.

The taller child tiptoed, glaring with his slightly yellow eyes, and shouted with all his might, “All killed by soldiers!”

“Mudskipper, Mudskipper.” Dog Dan tugged at his patched, short-sleeved shirt that couldn’t cover his forearms. “If you say more, they will kill us.”

Mudskipper shook off his arm, rushed to my brother, and started kicking and hitting him. “It’s all your fault! All your fault! My sister, my father, Dog Dan’s father – all killed by you! Bad people! Bad people!” My brother stood there, neither dodging nor avoiding, allowing him to vent.

The sunset retracted its last ray of light, and the harsh autumn wind carried tears from the corners of the child’s eyes.

“Wu...” The child who had been flailing just moments ago now curled up, sobbing softly in the darkness. Dusk enveloped the wasteland, and the soldiers stood silently like statues. “Get up,” my brother’s towering figure appeared even more pronounced in the half-light. “Let’s go eat.”

Mudskipper sniffled and looked up, his expression unreadable. After a while, he stood up, pulled Dog Dan, and cautiously took a step forward. My brother didn’t react, simply turned and left. The smell of food wafted over, and the two children exchanged glances before following.

“I heard there will be meat tonight!” Loud conversation elicited two growls, and the soldiers stopped, laughing loudly. “Hahaha, you little brats are really lucky, catching this meal!”

As we approached the main tent, the two children, holding hands, suddenly stopped and backed into me. Seeing their frightened faces, I smiled kindly, “Why don’t you go in?”

Their eyes flickered with fear and tension. Bending down, I took one by each hand and walked boldly inside. “General, we’ve come to beg for a meal!”

The tent was bathed in warm candlelight, with two simple dishes on the table. My brother lifted the corner of his mouth and watched them with a smile. “Come quickly, today we have stir-fried greens and diced potatoes with meat.”

Upon hearing this, their eyes shone brightly. They let go of my hand and excitedly ran to the table. My brother handed them two bowls filled with white rice. Mudskipper and Dog Dan grabbed the bowls and started shoving the rice into their mouths.

“Slow down, eat as much as you want today.” He tapped their dirty little hands with chopsticks. “Remember, no eating with your hands!”

They bashfully scratched their heads, grinned, took the chopsticks, and began devouring the food on the plates. My brother held his bowl and stared directly at the two boys, as if reminiscing. After a while, a low voice was heard: “Has Yunqing ever starved like this later?” Turning my head, under the candlelight, a trace of melancholy passed through those deep eyes.

I gently shook my head, “No, Master treated me very well.”

“Hmm.” He nodded slightly. “That’s good.” His tone was soft.

A slight bitterness rose in my heart. My brother must have thought of the days when we fled from Qianzhou. Back then, with pursuers behind and no reinforcements ahead, even the only fish oil was burned. We survived by stealing grain and digging up wild vegetables. In the hardest times, we even ate rats and wild grass. But even in such conditions, I never went hungry because my brother always let me eat first. Thinking of this, a tear slid from the corner of my eye, and I swallowed a mouthful of rice with the bittersweet tears, tasting the sourness in my heart.

Seeing the plates almost empty and the two children with mouths full of rice, my brother finally asked, “Who killed your relatives?”

The two boys, who were happily eating, suddenly froze. Mudskipper put down his chopsticks, clenched his fists, and said, “They were killed by corrupt officials and bandits.”

“Corrupt officials? Bandits?” I asked, puzzled.

Dog Dan raised his little face, nodded angrily, “My mother said the corrupt official was named Pan Shining, and she told me to remember and avenge my father!”

“Pan Shining, the governor of Shaozhou.” My brother said quietly. “Did your parents break the law?”

“Not at all!” Mudskipper pounded his small fist on the table, causing the bowls and plates to tremble and clink. “These years, either locusts or floods, our fields produced no grain, and the whole village was starving. One day, a group of soldiers came to the village, saying that households unable to pay grain would have to send someone to do hard labor.” He glanced at Dog Dan’s distressed face. “My father and his father were taken away. After a few days without news, Mudskipper and I sneaked to the mountain ravine where they worked. Little did we know, little did we know!” He gripped the edge of the table tightly, digging small holes in the lacquer surface with his nails. “It wasn’t work at all, but being used as arrow targets!”

“Arrow targets?” I frowned in confusion.

“Yeah.” Dog Dan wiped the tears from his face. “We saw a group of soldiers shooting arrows at people from our village and other villages. The big official riding the horse kept shouting, ‘Aim better, aim better, don’t waste the arrows.’“

My brother clenched his jaw and slammed the table, his face turning pale, the scar on his left cheek looking somewhat ferocious.

Isn’t this hunting humans! What beasts! I couldn’t help but clench my fists, my knuckles cracking audibly.

Dog Dan hid fearfully behind Mudskipper, mumbling, “We really didn’t mean to today. We just heard from our mother that you were worse than corrupt officials and bandits, so we came to play with fire.” Saying this, he tugged at Mudskipper’s clothes, whimpering, “Mudskipper, are they planning to kill us? Feeding us to make us die full, stuffing our mouths so we can’t complain to Lord Yama. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, wu...”

Mudskipper shielded him, his throat moving slightly as he slowly retreated backwards. Trying not to laugh, I shook my head and waved at them. “Don’t be afraid, we’re just angry at those corrupt officials and bandits.”

“Hmm.” My brother reined in his anger, and the scar on his face softened considerably. “Come quickly, there’s still some uneaten food. We can’t waste grain.”

The two children looked at each other, stunned for a moment, but eventually let down their guard and came closer again. My brother picked up a shallow plate and poured the remaining dishes along with the sauce into their bowls. “Are you familiar with this area?”

The two children, who were voraciously eating with their heads down, nodded and mumbled indistinctly, “No one knows this place… better than us.”

“Do you know any shortcuts through Jiacheng?” My brother’s seemingly casual question actually contained profound implications. The terrain of Jing State was elevated, gradually rising from Min Pass. The Jiacheng in front of us was the capital of Shaozhou and also a crucial pass from low to high ground. If Min Pass was the lip, then Jiacheng was the teeth; if the lip cracked, the teeth fell, and the rivers and mountains of Jing State would be under our control.

Dog Dan bit his chopsticks, tilting his head pensively, appearing innocent and cute. “Yes.” Mudskipper spat out a piece of meat, savoring it without swallowing. “You can go through Flying Bird Valley, and it will quickly bypass Jiacheng.”

“The Valley of Flying Birds?” My brother stood up and retrieved a scroll of silk from the sleeping platform, setting down his chopsticks to take a closer look. The silk was as thin as a cicada’s wing. Upon unfolding it, I saw that it depicted the geography of the Divine Kun region, with every mountain and river meticulously marked, extremely detailed. The map was quite large, so my brother had to fold it to view it. His slender fingers moved from Min Pass northward to Jiacheng, and after a while, he finally located the Valley of Flying Birds. This place was situated west of Jiacheng, between two mountains, in a rather remote location. If we marched through here, we could bypass Jiacheng and directly enter the heartland of Jing State.

“But...” Dog Dan fought with Mudskipper over the last piece of diced meat but ultimately didn’t get it. “But no one can pass through the Valley of Flying Birds!” He pouted and yelled, “Mudskipper is the worst; he didn’t tell them about the Black Wind Fort in the Valley of Flying Birds!”

“Black Wind Fort?”

“Mm-hmm. On the east side, there’s a wolf who emptied our granary and acts as both predator and accomplice — he’s from the Pan family. On the west side, there are wolves everywhere, seizing the mountain and proclaiming themselves kings, setting fires in villages and robbing young women.”

I went over to pat his head and asked curiously, “Does the lone wolf on the east not care about the pack of wolves on the west side?”

“Hmph!” Mudskipper hugged the rice bucket, scraping the last layer of scorched rice clean. “They don’t care at all! According to Scholar Zhao from our village, they’re partners in crime.”

“Go away!” Dog Dan snatched the ladle, took a big bite, and said smugly to my brother, “It’s called being partners in crime, you fool!” He added triumphantly, “Our village has been too poor these years, so the Black Wind Fort doesn’t come anymore. They only rob merchants passing by. My mother used to have a tea stall at the village entrance, hoping travelers would buy some water, but now almost no one passes by.”

My brother folded the map neatly and put it back under the pillow, smiling warmly. “It’s late. You should go back early, or your family will worry.”

Upon hearing this, Mudskipper looked sharply toward the tent entrance, jumped up nervously, and exclaimed, “Oh no, oh no!” He pulled Dog Dan, who was still scraping the bottom of the pot, and stomped his feet loudly, “Stop eating! We’ll be beaten if we’re any later!” With that, the two of them rushed out of the camp like a gust of wind.

“Brother, it’s late. Let me see them off.”

“Mm, be careful.”

I hurried after them, following behind the two boys. As winter approached, it grew dark earlier. Before the hour of Shen had ended, the moon had lazily risen, a delicate crescent hanging on the half-bare birch branches, like a cold ghost watching over the human world. The two children panted, holding hands and running out of the camp. The semi-withered autumn grass rustled beneath their feet, and strange birds flew low overhead, making hoarse sounds. When they reached a winding gravel path, they suddenly stopped and looked up at me.

“Mm, no need to escort us further. We’ll reach the village soon.” Mudskipper kicked a pebble on the ground, looking somewhat awkward. After a moment, he raised his head as if mustering courage and shouted loudly, “You are good people!” He then grabbed Dog Dan’s hand and ran forward without looking back.

Watching the two small figures disappear over the rolling hills, an involuntary smile crept onto my lips.

“Mm…” A faint sigh came from nearby. I touched Xiaohun at my waist and cautiously entered the birch forest. Earlier, the two strange birds were perched on the overgrown ground, pecking intermittently at a dark shadow. My foot sank into something soft, startling me. I stepped back cautiously and realized there were several corpses scattered on the ground. By the cold light of the moon filtering through the tree branches, I examined closely: three men and two women, one of whom was a child about the same age as Yan’er. The men were either sprawled face-down or lying on their backs, covered in knife wounds on their necks and abdomens, eyes rolled up, all dead with their eyes wide open. However, the women were even more pitiful. The older woman’s clothes were disheveled, her throat slit. The younger woman was nearly naked, her body covered in scratches and bite marks.

Was that sound she made earlier? Holding onto a sliver of hope, I crouched down and pressed two fingers against her neck. Nothing. I frowned slightly and tried again. Just as I was about to withdraw my hand in resignation, my fingertips suddenly felt a faint pulse. She’s alive! I quickly removed my outer robe to cover her body, then carried her on my back and sprinted back to the camp using the Treading Over Grass technique.

“Lord Feng!” Ignoring the salute from the sentry, I leaped over the fence and dashed into the medic’s tent.

“Lord!” Army Doctor Lu had already taken off his outer coat and was preparing for bed. “What is this?” His gaze fell upon my back.

I carefully laid the woman on the bed, panting urgently, “Quickly! Quickly! She seems to be still alive!”

Lu Ming gently lifted a corner of her clothing, revealing a large expanse of pale skin and a dust-covered delicate face. “A woman?” he exclaimed in surprise.

“Mm.” I nodded quickly. “Regardless of whether she’s male or female, save her first!”

“Alright.” He sat down to check her pulse, his eyebrows twitching slightly.

“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.

“The pulse is weak, but there’s no immediate danger to her life.” Lu Ming removed the robe, momentarily startled by the exposed female body. “This...” His face turned awkward, and he cleared his throat. “Could Lord fetch a basin of water to clean her body?”

“Sure.” I exited the medical tent and requested a basin of hot water from the night patrol soldiers. Returning inside, I saw Lu Ming shaking his head, his expression filled with regret. I soaked a towel in the hot water and carefully wiped her body. “How is she?” I whispered.

“Poor girl,” Lu Ming sighed. “Her virginity brutally violated… even if we save her body, we may not save her mind.”

My movements paused, and I gazed at her in pain, recalling the image of that graceful figure. Clenching the towel tightly, warm water dripped onto her scarred body. I bit my lower lip and silently vowed: Never again would I allow the tragedy of Hua Mei to repeat itself. Silently, I cleaned the bloodstains from her inner thighs, wiping away each mark of shame. Live on, you must live on. The tent was quiet, the dim yellow lamplight casting shadows across her full yet fragile form. I covered her once more with the outer robe, washed the towel, and noticed the water in the basin had turned a faint shade of red. Gently brushing aside strands of hair clinging to her face, I carefully wiped her cheeks.

When she was clean, I couldn’t help but freeze in astonishment. Her emerald brows stretched like distant peaks, her jet-black hair like spring mist, a faint blush tinting her cheeks, her cherry-red lips like half a blossom. What a refined and elegant visage — her face bore a striking resemblance to one of the two beauties of Yundu, Dong Huiru.

“Doctor Lu.” I spoke softly, afraid of waking this sleeping beauty. “I’ll stay here tonight to care for her. Please inform General’s tent on my behalf.” Since the battle at Min Pass, I had moved into my brother’s main tent. Even though it was crowded and difficult to sleep, it was better than staying near that scoundrel.

“Yes.”

The arrival of a beautiful woman in the midst of men caused a stir in the camp, and the number of soldiers suffering from sudden illnesses and diarrhea at night surged. Wrapped in the cotton robe my brother had sent, I stood guard by her bedside. She seemed to sense the furtive glances of others or perhaps was entangled in nightmares. Her delicate brows furrowed slightly, her eyes tightly shut, emitting faint moans from her crimson lips.

“This woman is stunning, a celestial being.” A soldier peeked over, admiration and fascination mingling in his eyes.

“Hmph!” I cleared my throat pointedly. He glanced at me warily and forced a smile. “Lord Feng is truly kind-hearted. Surely, you’ll be rewarded in the future—perhaps you’ll marry a wife even more beautiful than her!”

“Don’t jest.” Another soldier nudged him, then bowed slightly to me. “It’s late. We’ll take our leave now. Please rest early, Lord.”

As the night deepened, the wind sneaking in under the tent grew colder. Lu Ming leaned against another bed, lightly snoring. I tucked the edges of her clothing in and, by the flickering candlelight, gazed downward. In the shadow by the bedside, a wild blade of grass trembled in the chilly autumn, stubbornly refusing to shed its green cloak, unwilling to bow to the wind. I looked up at the troubled face on the bed, gripping her cold hand tightly: Once she survives this bleak autumn, she’ll welcome the warm breath of spring. By then, she won’t bloom for anyone, nor wither for anyone—only seeking freedom of heart.

“Mm...” Her crimson lips parted slightly, trembling. Her willowy brows furrowed, and her almond-shaped eyes slowly opened. She stared blankly at the tent ceiling, slightly shifting her body. “Ah!” She let out a pained cry, her drowsy eyes suddenly snapping clear. Her delicate face turned ashen, her hair scattered, panic-stricken. She lifted the robe and looked down at herself. Her bright eyes lost focus instantly, tears streaming down her face, washing away the last traces of vitality. Her eyes held no emotion whatsoever.

“Lady.” I leaned down to meet her vacant gaze. “Lady.” I shook her shoulders gently. All around was silent, the harsh wind howling, as if we were in an abandoned graveyard. It was as if her soul had been drained, leaving behind only an empty shell. I stared at her silently, not knowing how much time passed. Suddenly, a flicker of determination flashed in her almond eyes. She abruptly sat up and lunged toward the edge of the bed, as if reenacting a scene from the Winter Solstice. Filled with sorrow and anger, I reflexively swung my right hand. “Slap!” A sharp sound echoed through the tent as her semi-naked body collapsed onto the bed, her black hair splayed across her back.

“Is this all you’ve got?!” I bellowed angrily, my voice reverberating through the medical tent. “What? Are you blaming me for saving you? Are you cursing heaven and earth for not letting you die on the spot?”

“Lord!” Lu Ming sat up abruptly, urgently trying to calm me. “Please, don’t be angry! Don’t be angry!”

Ignoring him completely, I continued my tirade: “There are four more bodies in the birch forest—they must be your family, no?” Her pale body trembled slightly. “You carry a blood debt, yet you want to abandon the lives of your loved ones. If you truly care for them, live on bravely. Use your own hands to bury the tomorrows of your enemies and bury the shame that haunts your memory. If you take your own life because of the humiliation you’ve suffered, then let me make this clear to you.” I sneered coldly, uttering words that were almost cruel: “Woman, you’re running away!”

She turned halfway, her face streaked with tears, astonishment momentarily masking the despair in her eyes as she froze in place.

“Wanting to die is easy enough!” I pulled Xiaohun from my waist and tossed it before her. “If you wish to slit your throat, I won’t stop you—save me the trouble of watching you struggle between life and death!” Outside the tent, the dry rustling of grass mingled with the desolate autumn wind. The candlelight flickered, its flame twisting and casting shifting shadows that appeared and disappeared intermittently. I waited—for her to change her mind, for her will to survive, for her decision.

She pulled the robe over herself, her delicate fingers trembling as they straightened. Was she truly choosing the path to Huangquan? Her slender arm lifted slowly, the cold light of Xiaohun reflecting on her face, lending a glimmer of resolve to her tear-filled eyes. “Ah!” A heart-wrenching cry pierced the air, followed by the sudden flash of silver. I closed my eyes with a sigh—women who lost their chastity in this era always seemed doomed to such fates. But… there was no spray of blood. Opening my eyes, I saw a cascade of black hair fall to the ground.

She clutched Xiaohun, wrapping the robe tightly around herself as she collapsed onto the bed in a bow. “Thank you, benefactor, for saving my life, and thank you for slapping me awake!”

I nodded with relief: “It’s good that you’ve come to your senses. No need to thank me.” I retrieved Xiaohun and secured it at my waist. “May I ask your name, where you’re from, and whether you have any remaining relatives?”

She curled her body, covering every inch of her skin with the robe, and spoke in a broken voice: “My surname is Hao, and my childhood name is Pan’er. I’m originally from Yundu in Qing Country. Last month, my father passed away, and I set out with my younger brother to seek refuge with my aunt in Jiacheng. But upon arriving in the city, I learned that my aunt had fallen ill and passed away just days ago, and her husband’s family refused to take us in. So we decided to return home and figure out our next steps.” Tears streamed down like rain, her sorrow akin to the fragrance of lilacs, her starry eyes ablaze with anguish, her willowy brows furrowed in grief. “This afternoon, as we passed through the woods outside the city, a group of bandits ambushed us… they… they…” She bit her cherry-red lips so hard they bled, the fresh red drops adding an eerie splash of color to the dark night. In a fit of despair, she began pounding her forehead against the bed, her now-shortened hair falling over her face, obscuring her features. All I could hear were muffled sobs.

________________________________________

The autumn night was filled with sorrow and cruelty.

Mournful cries echoed until dawn.

Separated by the river of death, tears flowed bitterly. What fear was there of the wind’s blade cutting through the frost?

When autumn fades and winter departs, the gentle spring rain will lightly scent a single branch.