In the deep autumn of the Great Qian dynasty, the night wind swept across the palace walls, rattling the iron wind chimes hanging from the eaves.
Three braziers of animal charcoal burned in the warm chamber of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the bronze basins glowing red, yet a chill that refused to disperse still hung in the air.
Frost had formed on the outside of the window lattice, and every time the chamber door opened, cold air crept in along the floor.
Eunuch Li clutched a leather dispatch tube and hurried through the long corridor.
When he crossed the threshold, his chest was still heaving, but he dared not let a single gasp escape.
The tube was sealed with three white feathers, the wax still fresh.
The old emperor, draped in a bright yellow mantle, sat behind the imperial desk reviewing memorials.
He caught sight of those three white feathers, and the vermilion brush in his hand paused for a moment.
A drop of cinnabar ink fell onto the memorial, slowly spreading into a blot.
This was already the first urgent three-feather dispatch of the month.
Eunuch Li walked to the desk, bowed, and raised the dispatch tube above his head.
“Your Majesty, urgent report from the Western Route Prefecture.”
The old emperor set down his brush, took the tube, and broke the wax seal with his thumb.
The military report was only two thin pages:
“Ashina Gudu personally leads fifty thousand royal tent troops against the Western Route Prefecture. Trebuchets have pounded day and night without cease, now three days straight.”
“The city wall has collapsed in seven places. Defenders are more than half dead or wounded, and supplies will last only three more days.”
At the end was the commanding general’s personal plea for aid—the ink strokes were chaotic, and the corner of the paper was stained with dark brown blood.
The old emperor read it from beginning to end, his face betraying nothing.
He folded the report and pressed it beneath the green jade paperweight.
“Summon Xu Jie.”
Eunuch Li acknowledged softly and withdrew from the warm chamber.
In less than half an hour, Xu Jie arrived at the palace on summons.
He had come in haste, yet his robes and cap remained perfectly in order.
Upon entering, his eyes first fell on the white-feather dispatch tube beside the imperial desk.
Xu Jie’s heart sank. He bowed and quickly asked,
“Your servant Xu Jie kowtows to Your Majesty.”
The old emperor raised a hand.
“Rise. Sit.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Xu Jie sat on the brocade stool with only half his weight, his back not fully relaxed.
“Your Majesty, has something happened on the northern border?”
The old emperor gazed at the candle flame on the desk.
“The city wall of the Western Route Prefecture—Ashina Gudu has breached it.”
Xu Jie’s expression shifted sharply.
“How many sections collapsed?”
“Seven.”
“And the defenders?”
“More than half dead or wounded. Supplies for only three days.”
Xu Jie raised his head abruptly.
“Your Majesty, the Western Route Prefecture cannot be lost.”
He rose and walked to the imperial desk, pointing at the map.
“If the Western Route falls, the royal tent troops can circle behind Zhenbei Pass.”
“If Ashina Dubi on the central route presses forward as well, the forty thousand garrison troops at Zhenbei Pass will be caught between two fronts, with no route of retreat.”
The old emperor did not answer. He only picked up his teacup and took a sip.
The tea had long gone cold.
He frowned slightly and set the cup back down.
“Ashina Dubi may no longer have the mind to bother with Zhenbei Pass.”
Xu Jie was taken aback.
The old emperor tapped his knuckles twice on the desk.
“The wolf that Xu Qinghuan released back onto the grassland has already moved.”
Xu Jie’s eyes narrowed.
The Grand Secretariat had received no word of this.
That could only mean the Imperial City Bureau’s scouts had reached the heart of the steppe earlier than the Ministry of War’s dispatches.
The old emperor continued, “The Qiyan tribe burned the Baiyin pasture.”
“The grain and livestock that Ashina Dubi had stockpiled there—burned or scattered.”
“For the central camp, the first concern now is how to extricate itself from danger, not how to join up with the Western Route royal tent troops for a pincer attack.”
Xu Jie was silent for a moment.
He had been fixated on the crisis at the Western Route Prefecture, never imagining that Xu Qinghuan had already extended her hand deep into the steppe heartland.
This move—Xu Jie had indeed known far too little about it.
That fire had not just burned a pasture; it had burned away the very foundation of Ashina Dubi’s will to continue fighting.
“Xu Qinghuan had planned for this all along?”
“If she couldn’t manage even that much, why would I have sent her to the northern border?”
The old emperor spoke flatly, impossible to tell whether it was praise or a rebuke.
He paused, then added, “Besides, Zhenbei Pass has Xu Zhan.”
“A warrior of such valor will surely prove a benefit to the northern campaign.”
At the sound of that name, Xu Jie lowered his eyes.
Xu Youde temporarily oversees the Ministry of Revenue’s grain and funds. Xu Wuyou is reorganizing canal administration in Tongzhou.
Xu Zhan’s position on the northern border is not to be underestimated, and Xu Qinghuan holds the authority of an imperial envoy.
The Xu family now sat upon the most critical joints of the Great Qian realm.
Grain, canal transport, border troops, discretionary command authority—lose any one of them, and the court would suffer crippling damage.
Xu Jie’s hands slowly clenched inside his sleeves, then quickly relaxed.
“Your Majesty, the Xu family is loyal and brave to the core. Your servant harbors no suspicion.”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“But the Western Route Prefecture is in mortal danger. We ought to leave one step in reserve.”
The old emperor looked up at him.
Xu Jie chose his words carefully. “Your servant requests the transfer of thirty thousand men from the capital garrison to temporarily station at Baoding.”
“They need not cross the border—only serve as backup for Zhenbei Pass.”
“If the northern situation turns for the worse, we won’t have to scramble to mobilize troops.”
The old emperor shook his head.
“No transfer.”
Xu Jie wanted to press further, but the old emperor had already pressed his hand flat on the map.
“If the capital garrison moves, the capital region is left empty.”
Xu Jie said no more.
Although Shang Qitai had fallen, the great clans behind the Shang family had not vanished.
The great lineages of the south, the nobles of the capital, and the interconnected officials of the six ministries were all still watching from the shadows.
The more chaotic the northern front became, the more excuse they had to make trouble in the court.
If the capital garrison were also pulled away, no one could predict what turmoil might erupt within the capital itself.
“The northern front goes to Xu Qinghuan for now.”
The old emperor looked at Xu Jie.
“I have given her the imperial envoy’s seal and authority to act as circumstances require.”
“If she cannot clean up this mess, the capital garrison wouldn’t be able to save it either.”
Xu Jie heard the coldness in the old emperor’s words.
The emperor trusted Xu Qinghuan, and so was willing to place the northern front in her hands.
But the emperor would not shake the capital’s foundations for her sake.
The old emperor’s gaze returned to the map.
“That new section of city wall at Zhenbei Pass—that was also a method she devised back then, wasn’t it?”
Xu Jie replied, “Yes.”
“Lime, sand, crushed stone, mixed with some other things. Once set, it is far stronger than the old rammed earth.”
The old emperor let out a soft laugh.
“What others see as mud and gravel, in her hands always becomes something more.”
Xu Jie did not answer right away.
There was appreciation in that laugh—and caution as well.
A minister too incompetent, the emperor would not use.
A minister too capable, the emperor would not fully trust either.
After a beat, Xu Jie said, “The Xu family’s ability is a blessing to the court.”
“So long as it is wielded properly, this blade will not wound the hand that holds it.”
The old emperor glanced at him.
“You are circling rather wide tonight.”
Xu Jie rose and bowed.
“Your servant would never dare deceive Your Majesty.”
“I merely believe that if the northern war can be held, then that matter long debated in the court should also be pushed forward.”
The warm chamber fell silent.
A piece of animal charcoal cracked, letting out a faint pop.
The old emperor slowly turned the jade thumb ring on his finger.
“You mean the southern relocation?”
“Yes.”
Xu Jie lowered his voice.
“The Great Qian has held its capital in the north for too long. Transporting grain by canal is arduous, and the capital region is hamstrung by the great clans.”
“If the capital were moved south, with new administrative structures for canal transport, finance, and regional governance, the court would have a chance to untangle the roots of the southern lineages once more.”
The old emperor did not respond immediately.
Relocating the capital was not a matter of moving a palace, nor of changing where court was held.
The six ministries, the garrisons, the granaries, the canal system, the imperial tombs—every thread was bound to vested interests.
The court officials speak of ancestral laws with their mouths, but what they truly protect in their hearts are their own estates, their protégés, and their official posts.
These men will not easily agree.
Not unless the blades of the northern frontier are truly pressed against their eyes.
“It is not enough yet.”
The old emperor spoke suddenly.
Xu Jie looked up.
The old emperor pulled the military report from the Western Route Prefecture out from under the paperweight.
“A single secret report will not frighten them.”
“Wait until word of the crisis in the Western Route spreads, until they learn how far the Khanate’s army stands from the capital—only then will they relent.”
Xu Jie’s gaze shifted slightly.
“Your Majesty wishes to let the news out?”
“Not all at once.”
The old emperor handed him the military report.
“Tomorrow, the Grand Secretariat will first discuss defending the city—without mentioning mobilizing the Beijing garrison.”
“The memorials from the Ministry of War will also be set aside for now.”
“Three days from now, let word of the Western Route’s grain shortage reach the Six Ministries.”
Xu Jie took the military report and already understood the emperor’s intent.
The border crisis could not be resolved immediately.
At least in the court, it needed to burn for a few more days.
Only by making those who opposed the southern relocation truly afraid would they reconsider the weight of ancestral laws against their own lives and property.
“Your servant understands.”
Xu Jie bowed in acceptance.
“Your servant will keep watch over the Grand Secretariat, and will ensure that those who need to hear the news do hear it.”
The old emperor nodded.
“And, from what I know, that Xu Qinghuan is no simple matter... Here, let me leave one more hook.”
“Whether this matter succeeds or not depends on Xu Qinghuan.”
“Go now.”
After Xu Jie withdrew from the warm chamber, Eunuch Li closed the hall doors once more.
Most of the wind outside was cut off.
The old emperor rose, drew his great cloak tighter, and walked slowly to the window of the hall.
Outside, cold stars scattered thinly, and the wind rolled withered leaves across the glazed tiles.
“Now we wait for word.”
The old emperor stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze seeming to pierce through the layers of palace walls, straight to the snow-lashed Zhenbei Pass.
He was waiting.
Waiting for that Xu girl, so clever she bordered on uncanny, to turn over her hidden cards upon that hopeless, scorched earth.
