The first light of dawn crept over the horizon as a cloud of dust slowly revealed a troop of cavalry, fanning out to shield a slender figure at their center. Tens of thousands of soldiers stood before the gates of Shuozhou, as if awaiting the return of a king.
At just fifteen years old, Xiao Zheng had led a handful of soldiers straight into the heart of the Tatar camp, not only retrieving Xiao Yi’s corpse but also rescuing five hundred captured soldiers. Overnight, her name spread like wildfire through the ranks.
"The people of Shuozhou finally dare to step outside again. After hearing about our young General Xiao’s deeds, they’ve gone wild—some even linger by the city gates every day, hoping for a glimpse of her," Zhang Hu chattered animatedly while scrubbing chamber pots, his hands waving about.
But his words failed to lift Xiao Zheng’s spirits. She remained silent, her gaze fixed in the direction of the capital, lost in thought.
Lao Shu grumbled in a muffled voice, "Our Brother Zheng’s achievements far outweigh any mistakes. Why is the old general still punishing him with chamber pot duty?"
Xiao Zheng shot him a glance. "Enough! Military orders are absolute. I left my post without permission—this punishment is justified."
Though she’d been assigned to clean the pots, she barely touched a single one. The soldiers, moved by her legend, had already scrubbed them spotless before dawn. Those who needed to relieve themselves in the dead of night didn’t dare use the pots, trembling as they stumbled outside instead. As for the pots belonging to Xiao Zheng and her close companions, no one dared ask her to clean them—such audacity was unthinkable.
What weighed on Xiao Zheng’s mind was the news from the northwestern front, which must have reached the capital by now. She wondered where the Emperor would dispatch reinforcements from—and what Xiao Huan would do once he found out.
---
In the capital, the news struck like a thunderbolt: the Tatar alliance with the Rus had invaded Great Yuan, and the northwestern army had lost fifty thousand men. The palace immediately summoned imperial physicians.
Zhou Qingyuan clung to the underside of a carriage with Xiao Huan, their hearts pounding with fear and uncertainty as they fled the capital. He didn’t know what had happened—only that after the northwestern report arrived, his father had ordered him to deliver a letter to Prince Kang.
No sooner had he sent the letter than rumors spread that the Crown Prince, supposedly recovered, had coughed up blood again. Before Zhou Qingyuan could verify the news, the pale and weakened Crown Prince was quietly escorted into the Zhou residence by his aides. Whatever was discussed behind closed doors left his father grim-faced as he handed Zhou Qingyuan a bundle.
"Take Xiao Huan and leave the capital immediately! Deliver this to Prince Kang with your own hands—go, now!"
The moment they fled, the Emperor visited the Eastern Palace. The Xiao army’s reputation was such that the people, enraged by the news, clamored for the Tatar Princess Baya and her brother to be torn apart in vengeance for the fallen soldiers.
At court the next morning, when Princess Baya arrogantly declared that only she could cure the Crown Prince’s poison, the frail prince drove a dagger into her heart.
"His Majesty loves his people as his own children. Even if I die, I will never yield to the threats of scum like you."
Moved by his son’s resolve, the Emperor offered a reward of ten thousand taels for any healer or remedy that could save the Crown Prince. He then ordered Princess Baya’s head sent to Shuozhou as an offering to the dead soldiers—a move that finally quelled the public outcry.
"Your Majesty! This subject begs to report—the northwestern army has only seventy thousand men left. We must send reinforcements at once to secure the border!"
"Another petition, Your Majesty! The Jurchens and Oirats are watching closely. If we divert troops from Yingzhou to the northwest, they may seize the chance to invade!"
"The northwestern army is trapped in Shuozhou with limited supplies! Without reinforcements, we risk losing all thirteen northwestern cities! Why not dispatch thirty thousand capital guards?"
"The northwestern forces were merely caught off guard. Now that they’ve regained their footing, they can surely repel the Tatars!"
The debate raged until the Emperor’s face darkened with frustration. A suffocating anger rose in his chest—unable to be expelled or swallowed—and he clutched his forehead, claiming a sudden headache.
That night, Noble Consort Xian brought him soup in the study.
The next day, the Emperor, citing a chill, suspended court and summoned Zhou Sanwei.
When Zhou Sanwei saw the Emperor again, his unease deepened. The ruler had aged visibly—the crisis had taken its toll.
"This subject greets Your Majesty."
"Minister Zhou, tell me—should I send troops to reinforce the northwest?"
Zhou Sanwei steadied himself before answering. "This subject believes it is necessary. The Tatars have gone too far. If we do not strike back, their arrogance will grow. Pushing them back now could secure the border for another decade."
The Emperor didn’t commit to the decision. Instead, he sighed.
"Minister Zhou, was I wrong? Had I listened to you back then, we wouldn’t have fallen for the Tatars’ scheme."
A chill ran down Zhou Sanwei’s spine.
"How could this be Your Majesty’s fault? You acted for the sake of Great Yuan’s people. The blame lies solely with the treacherous Tatars!"
The Emperor’s eyes remained closed as he uttered a quiet sentence that sent Zhou Sanwei to his knees again.
"Then why didn’t you stop me with all your might?!"
"This subject deserves death!"
"Guards! By imperial decree, Zhou Sanwei is demoted to Sima of Chuzhou for disrespect before the throne."
The court buzzed with speculation the next morning.
Yet the happiest man wasn’t Murong You. Logically, after fifteen years of rivalry, Zhou Sanwei’s downfall should have delighted him—clearing the way for the Murong family’s influence. But his face remained stern, as if untouched.
With the Emperor bedridden and the Crown Prince’s poison flaring again, the Second Prince and Fourth Prince were tasked with overseeing state affairs.
The two princes strode out of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, heads held high with the imperial edict in hand. Behind them, the Emperor’s eyes flickered open, watching the doorway before closing again.
---
Zhou Qingyuan and Xiao Huan, escorted by the Imperial Guards, evaded no fewer than ten assassination attempts before reaching Yingchuan.
Xiao Huan had been silent the entire journey. Once, he even tried to slip away, only to be knocked unconscious by the guards and hauled back.
He didn’t want to go to Yingchuan. He wanted to return to the northwest—he refused to believe his father had fallen in battle. He wanted to go home.
Zhou Qingyuan watched the stubborn boy, torn between frustration and pity.
"Do you know who’s been hunting us?"
"The Second Prince! Murong You! They want to use you to control the Northwest Marquis!"
"If you go back now, you’ll be the one endangering him! Disobeying an imperial decree is punishable by death! And the Crown Prince—do you even understand why he sent you with me to Yingchuan? Use your head!"
Xiao Huan broke down, sobbing into Zhou Qingyuan’s shoulder, his resolve crumbling. From then on, he stopped trying to escape and followed Zhou Qingyuan obediently to Yingchuan.
When Lu Chao and Xiao Youcheng saw the bedraggled group, their shock was palpable.
"What are you doing here?!"
"Your Highness, my father said this was entrusted by the Crown Prince for your eyes only. He said you’d understand once you saw it."
Prince Kang eagerly took the bundle—inside was a jade pendant, a thick letter, and several books.
The others tactfully withdrew, leaving the prince to his reading. Lu Chao clapped a hand on Zhou Qingyuan’s shoulder, taking in his wild hair and unshaven face.
The two sat silently on the stone steps in front of the door, gazing at each other without a word.
Before long, Murong Yun and Teacher Shang hurried over.
No one knew what the three of them discussed inside, but when Lu Chao entered, he noticed their eyes were all red—especially Xiao Youcheng’s, whose grief-stricken gaze was laced with resentment.
"His Majesty is gravely ill and still unconscious. The Crown Prince has been poisoned. Though the Second Prince and Fourth Prince are overseeing state affairs, it’s effectively Prime Minister Murong who holds the reins. The matter of troop deployment has been delayed repeatedly, and the Northwest Army may not be able to hold out much longer."
"Wasn’t the Crown Prince cured?" This question had weighed on Zhou Qingyuan’s mind the entire journey, and now he finally had the chance to ask.
Xiao Youcheng shook his head.
"The Crown Prince wasn’t poisoned—he was cursed. Princess Baya’s medicine was another type of curse. On the surface, it appeared to heal him, but in truth, it only lasts two months. It was nothing more than bait to lure His Majesty into a trap."
"What a vicious scheme! No wonder none in our mighty Great Yuan could cure him—it was a curse all along!"
Lu Chao noticed Xiao Youcheng’s eyes reddening again as he spoke of the Crown Prince.
"Aren’t curses the dark arts of Miaojiang? How could the Crown Prince have fallen victim to one?"
Xiao Youcheng shook his head once more.
"Right now, the most pressing matter is the Northwest Army, trapped in Shuozhou. They may not last ten more days. If Shuozhou falls, the border will be breached, and the remaining thirteen cities will likely be lost."
Teacher Shang tugged at his beard.
"Aside from resolving the issue of provisions for the Northwest Army, there’s also the matter of reinforcements. Ideally, we’d mobilize thirty thousand troops from the Central Army and another thirty thousand from Yingzhou—but without an imperial decree, we have no authority to deploy them."
Lu Chao studied the leather map and shook his head.
"Reinforcements may not be the only solution."
At the same time, atop the city walls of the Northwest Army’s stronghold, someone echoed his words.
Xiao Zheng pointed toward the Tartar encampment with his left hand.
"The Tartars and the Russians are allied because it serves their interests. But what if their alliance crumbles? Or better yet—what if they ally with us instead?"
