CXD - 83

Deep into the night, the two sat side by side at the dining table, gazing absently at the food before them, neither touching their chopsticks.

Xingzhou had just ceased hostilities, and the lost territories within the pass had yet to be fully reclaimed. With no fresh meat or vegetables available, the table was filled with dried and pickled dishes—foods that Jiang Zhiyi once didn’t even recognize.

“Shall I find something better for you?” Yuan Ce asked, tilting his head.

“I’m not complaining—” Jiang Zhiyi snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head.

She wasn’t rejecting the food; on the contrary, she felt grateful for being able to eat these flavorful dishes, brought warm and comforting from the kitchen.

Jiang Zhiyi picked up some pickled vegetables with her chopsticks, placing them in his bowl, then did the same for herself: “The war isn’t over yet. This is more than enough.”

Surviving the calamity and sharing a meal with her beloved was already the greatest happiness she could ask for.

Yuan Ce looked at her gaunt face, recalling how much thinner she had become when he embraced her earlier. He wanted to tell her how much she had suffered, that soon she would have fresh meat, vegetables, and fish. But the words felt too light, insufficient to match the moment she stood alone on the city walls, ready to end her life, or the stories he had just heard from Pei Zisong about how she had endured these days.

After silently observing her for a while, Yuan Ce said: “Jiang Zhiyi, thank you for protecting yourself, and thank you for protecting Xingyang.”

“I didn’t do much,” Jiang Zhiyi replied casually, brushing it off. “I asked you before, what should we do if the attacking forces have powerful siege weapons and the defenders are outnumbered? You said maintaining morale is key to victory, so I just talked a little—and oh, spent some of my inexhaustible silver…”

She spoke lightly, but suddenly sensing something amiss, she glanced at him, frowning: “Wait a minute. Have we grown distant after two months apart? Have you found someone new in Hexi? Why are you thanking me?”

Yes, why would he say such a thing as “thank you”?

Only now did he realize that when emotions ran so deep they weighed down his entire heart, he couldn’t bring himself to utter sweet nothings.

Yuan Ce pulled her into his arms, lifting her onto his lap: “Someone new? The only female around me these past two months has been Yuan Tuan. Shouldn’t you be asking yourself this question?”

As his chin pointed toward the wing where Pei Zisong was staying, Jiang Zhiyi’s mouth dropped open in surprise: “Seriously? You’re still holding a grudge at a time like this? If it weren’t for Pei Zisong, I wouldn’t have been able to handle everything on my own.”

Yuan Ce knew that well and was deeply grateful that Pei Zisong had been by her side. But here, amidst humble fare and with battles still raging far away, he teased her to lighten her tension.

“My gratitude for him protecting you and my jealousy that he was by your side instead of me—what’s the conflict?” Yuan Ce raised an eyebrow.

Jiang Zhiyi wrapped her arms around his neck: “Then besides Pei Zisong, there are many others you should be grateful to and jealous of—Cao Sima, Sister Xueqing, Jingzhe, all the officials in the governor’s residence, the soldiers of Xingyang who trusted us, the common folk who gave us food and joined the battle… and…”

Her words trailed off, as though hitting an insurmountable barrier, choking on an unspoken truth. Her eyes dimmed, and the words she had been about to say died on her lips.

Earlier, a soldier from the Xuan Ce Army had come to report casualties to Yuan Ce, but he hadn’t listened in front of her.

From the moment he woke up until now, she hadn’t dared to ask that question, as if not asking meant the story remained unfinished.

Yuan Ce paused silently for a moment, then raised his eyes: “Let’s eat first, alright?”

“After we finish eating—” Jiang Zhiyi stared into his eyes, as if waiting for him to conjure a miracle.

Yuan Ce lowered his gaze: “After we finish eating, we’ll go see them off.”

Walking back into the western camp late at night, this ruin bore no trace of victory. Stretchers covered with white cloth lay everywhere, and the surviving soldiers identified their comrades one by one, marking their names with crimson circles in the roster.

The soldiers of the Xuan Ce Army gathered in a corner of the camp, heads bowed as they gazed at the long row of one hundred and one stretchers.

They said that in the heat of summer, these one hundred and one brothers couldn’t return to distant Hexi and had to be buried here.

They also said that the war wasn’t over yet, and they and the Young General would soon move on to the next city. Unable to linger, they had chosen a quiet spot outside the city for the burial tonight.

Jiang Zhiyi knelt beside the stretchers, looking at each face washed clean by water, calling out every name from the roster.

When Yuan Ce handed her a handkerchief, she realized she had been kneeling by Sanqi’s side, tears streaming down her face without her noticing.

In the firelight, the young boy’s eyes were closed, his face peaceful, as if he were merely asleep.

Jiang Zhiyi took the handkerchief but didn’t wipe her tears. Instead, she tremulously reached out, carefully wiping the dirt from the boy’s temples with the cloth. She touched the dimples that were now unseen.

“Sanqi, in our next life, I won’t be your Young Mistress. I’ll be your older sister, okay?”

Behind her, the soldiers of the Xuan Ce Army turned their heads away, unable to bear the sight.

“And them,” Jiang Zhiyi looked at the endless row of stretchers. “So many people—I’ll have to work hard, like I did in this life, to have inexhaustible silver. Then I’ll invite them all to my estate, where they can eat and live freely. If the neighbors ask why they’re so idle, I’ll say it’s because they’ve already endured all the hardships in their past lives. For all eternity, they won’t suffer anymore—they’ll never suffer again…”

“I’ll remember your names, and you must remember mine. If you forget me, remember your Young General—he won’t escape; he’ll definitely be at my estate. Look for the right door, don’t get it wrong. If you freeload elsewhere, you might get beaten up.”

Jiang Zhiyi crouched on the ground, rambling on until her legs went numb and she stumbled, only to be steadied by Yuan Ce.

After wiping her tears, Jiang Zhiyi took out the ocarina she had bought on the streets of Guzang—the one she had purchased to evade Sanqi’s watchful eye. Holding it with both hands, she placed it to her lips and began to softly play, facing northwest.

The mournful, plaintive melody lingered endlessly, echoing above the camp and drifting in strands toward the northwest.

The soldiers of the Xuan Ce Army held their helmets under their arms, heads bowed in solemn silence.

As the tune ended, Jiang Zhiyi slowly lowered the ocarina in her hands, facing the one hundred and one fallen warriors: “Your bodies rest far from home, but may this soul-guiding melody lead your spirits back to your homeland... I, the Young General, and all your comrades and brothers here—send you off—home!”

“Send you off—home!”

One stretcher after another was lifted, carried out of the camp in neat rows, heading toward the green hills outside the city.

Jiang Zhiyi gazed at the winding procession in the distance, then looked up at the dazzling starry sky above, clasping her hands together and closing her eyes—

May the stars and moon shine brightly tonight, illuminating the path home for these warriors.

At dawn the next day, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window lattice, Jiang Zhiyi stood by the bed in the bedroom, struggling to lift the heavy armor that was too much for her, piece by piece dressing Yuan Ce in it.

The reinforcements had arrived, and there were still territories in the four surrounding states yet to be reclaimed. He was about to lead the Xuan Ce Army into battle.

Yuan Ce had originally intended to dress himself, but she said she had heard from the soldiers of Xingyang that if a general’s beloved dressed him in his armor before departure, he would surely lead his troops to victory in every battle.

She also claimed that after returning from the camp last night, she had studied how to put on the armor ten times over. Though she sometimes struggled with her own clothes, she now fully understood how to don his battle gear.

Not wanting to disappoint his fiancée, who couldn’t figure out her own clothes but could master his armor, Yuan Ce extended his arms and let her proceed.

To his surprise, she hadn’t exaggerated—she dressed him meticulously, piece by piece.

The final item was the helmet. Yuan Ce watched as she solemnly held it up, lowering his head to allow her to place it on.

Jiang Zhiyi stood on her toes, carefully placing the helmet on his head, then cupped his face and leaned up to softly kiss his lips: “Brother Ce.”

Yuan Ce curved his lips upward, looking down at her: “Mm.”

“Brother Ce.”

“Mm?”

“Brother Ce.”

Yuan Ce chuckled: “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Jiang Zhiyi tilted her chin: “I have nothing to say. This is my magic spell. I’ve heard that if a general’s beloved calls him ‘brother’ three times before departure, he will surely be invincible and unstoppable.”

Yuan Ce’s gaze softened. He cupped her neck and leaned down, kissing her deeply.

Jiang Zhiyi stood on her toes, tilting her head back, tightly embracing his armor as she returned his kiss. Just as they broke apart, a knock sounded at the door—a messenger reporting that the army was ready to march.

Yuan Ce’s chest rose and fell beneath his armor as he slowly released her, licking away the moisture from her lips: “I’ve heard this works better than calling me ‘brother.’“

Jiang Zhiyi smiled, her lips pressed together, his sharp features reflected in her eyes: “Since it works, and the army is about to set out, may this Duchess issue a few commands to the Young General?”

Yuan Ce nodded: “Your servant is willing to listen.”

Jiang Zhiyi raised her hands, her expression solemn as she looked up at him: “On this campaign, General must first annihilate the rebels and slay our enemies, second, take care of yourself and return unscathed, and third, ensure all the soldiers under your command return safely, victorious.”

Yuan Ce took a step back, planted his sword, and knelt on one knee: “Your servant, obeys the Duchess’s command.”

On July 4th, the Xuan Ce Army departed from Xingzhou, advancing southeast with overwhelming force. In just a few days, they captured ten cities and reclaimed the lost territories within Da Ye Pass. They were unstoppable, like a hurricane sweeping through the land, leaving grass flattened and dust swirling wherever they went, scattering the rebel forces into disarray.

Fan Shi, the military governor of Hedong, had lost his beloved general and found his retreat cut off. Upon hearing the news, he gritted his teeth and withdrew his forces from the capital region, intending to retreat to the old Hedong stronghold.

Unexpectedly, just as they crossed the border of the capital region, they encountered the black-armored army of Hexi blocking their path.

That night, amidst torrential rain, lightning, and thunder, the Xuan Ce Army of Hexi clashed with the Hedong rebels in the forest of Jiyu.

After half the night, only Fan Shi remained of the Hedong rebels.

In the fierce wind and pouring rain, dozens of silver spears were aimed squarely at the center of the encirclement.

Outside the circle, the black-armored youth dismounted, holding a long spear, stepping through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. His dark helmet tassel stretched taut in the wind, while the hot blood streaming down his cheeks was washed away by the rain. His eyelashes, heavy with droplets of blood, did not move in the storm, his dark eyes fixed firmly on the battered figure supporting himself on the ground.

Fan Denian, pierced by several arrows, clutched his shoulder with one hand, propping himself up with his elbow. Watching the youth enter the circle, he saw the rain-mixed blood dripping from the tip of the spear in his hand, like an hourglass counting down to death.

“…Shen Yuan Ce, your prowess in warfare fills me with awe and respect, even as your opponent. If not for Hexi standing in my way to conquer the capital, I would not have wanted to fight you!”

Yuan Ce sneered: “My skill in battle is to protect the prosperity and peace of Hexi, not to earn admiration from scum like you. Save your words for the dead soldiers of Hexi in the underworld, and see if they can forgive your helplessness.”

Fan Denian’s pupils contracted, and he tried to crawl backward with his broken arm.

Yuan Ce raised his spear and thrust it through his palm, pinning him to the muddy ground. Gripping the spear shaft, he twisted the spearhead.

The sound of shattering bones and agonized screams filled the rainy forest.

Fan Denian gasped for breath, glaring at him: “…Shen Yuan Ce, though I am a traitor, I am the Emperor’s traitor. My life is not yours to decide!”

“And if I insist?”

“Then you are a traitor to Da Ye!”

“Then so be it—I’ll be that traitor!” Yuan Ce yanked the spear free, raised it again, and thrust it through Fan Denian’s collarbone. Clenching his fingers around the spear, he twisted it further.

Fan Denian’s mouth gaped open in silent agony, nearly fainting.

Just then, the distant rumble of carriage wheels approached, and a clear female voice rang out: “Young General Shen, stay your spear!”

Fan Denian, sensing a glimmer of hope, opened his eyes wide and looked past Yuan Ce. He saw the carriage stop, and two young women disembark, walking forward through the rain.

Yuan Ce didn’t turn around, as if he had expected their arrival.

Jiang Zhiyi led Pei Xueqing into the encirclement, looking down at Fan Denian from above. She tilted her head slightly: “What a coincidence. I’ve always wanted to be a traitor myself.”

Fan Denian squinted through the rain-blurred vision, finally recognizing who they were. The flicker of hope in his eyes extinguished instantly.

Jiang Zhiyi turned to Yuan Ce: “During the battle of Xingyang, Miss Pei nearly lost her life. We later heard that the rebels in the capital threatened her father with a knife to force his submission. Now, she wishes to personally slay this rebel to ease her hatred. I hope Young General Shen will grant her this wish.”

These coded words were naturally understood by Yuan Ce. He pulled the spear free, stepped aside, and gestured: “Then let us fulfill Miss Pei’s heartfelt wish. Miss Pei, do you know where the vital points of the human body are?”

Pei Xueqing coldly stared at the man on the ground, gripping the dagger Shen Yuan Ce had given her. Slowly unsheathing it, she crouched down, her voice steady: “Young General Shen, rest assured. I know how to heal people, so naturally, I also know how to kill.”

Fan Denian’s eyes widened as he stared at them: “Shen Yuan Ce, the bloodshed you’ve caused will one day come back to haunt you. You won’t—”

Before he could finish, a sharp sound of flesh being pierced echoed. Pei Xueqing gripped the dagger with both hands, summoning all her strength to drive the blade deep into Fan Denian’s heart. Looking up at his disbelieving eyes, her face was pale as snow, but her gaze was resolute and unwavering.

At this moment, the image of a laughing, carefree youth galloping through the streets of Chang’an flashed before her eyes.

Tears welled up in Pei Xueqing’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall: “He was the most sincere person in the world. You don’t deserve to utter his name.”