“On the frontier?”
“That’s right. He said his master’s surname is Li, and that he was tied up with matters at the border and couldn’t get away, so he sent him to come and see you.”
Shen Jinghong exchanged a glance with the Third Prince. In each other’s eyes, they saw the same emotion:
Another one.
The newcomer stood at the entrance of the inn, dressed in a somewhat worn black tunic. A short saber hung from his waist, and several overlapping scars—some old, some fresh—marked the back of his hand.
When he saw Shi Huai coming down the stairs, he dropped to one knee and gave a military salute.
“Your subordinate, Li Yi, has been ordered by the heir apparent to come protect Young Master.”
Shi Huai stood on the bottom step and looked down at the kneeling man, his brows drawing together slightly.
“The heir apparent? Which heir apparent?”
Forgive him. There were far too many heirs apparent in the capital, and for a moment, he truly couldn’t remember.
Li Yi rose from the ground and took a letter from inside his robe, offering it to him with both hands.
“The heir apparent said you would understand once you read the letter.”
Shi Huai accepted it. He opened the envelope and drew out the paper. The handwriting was bold and forceful, every stroke carrying the hard-edged strength of a soldier.
The letter was short, containing only a few lines.
“I heard that you were attacked. My heart burns with worry, but affairs at the frontier have kept me from coming in person. I have ordered Li Yi to lead ten personal guards to you by day and night. From now on, they will remain at your side and never leave you.”
“Also, though the Huabei region is in disorder, I have men operating there. I have already sent down orders. Should anyone dare lay so much as a finger on you, I will lead my army to raze Liu Family Hamlet to the ground.”
“If you are willing, you may come to the frontier. I will wait for you there.”
Shi Huai looked at the name at the bottom and understood who it was from. He raised his head and looked at Li Yi.
“Is the heir apparent doing well at the frontier?”
Li Yi grinned, revealing two neat rows of white teeth.
“He’s doing well. Just busy. He’s been fighting the Tatars all day, every day. They’ve been at it for several years and still haven’t finished, but the heir apparent said that once this battle is over, he’ll return to the capital.”
“Though you know as well as I do, once a war begins, it never seems to end.”
Shi Huai nodded. “Have them stay here. Ask the innkeeper to open a few more rooms.”
Li Yi acknowledged him and turned toward the front counter.
Upstairs in the corridor, Shen Jinghong and the Third Prince stood outside Shi Huai’s room.
Neither of them went in, and neither said a word.
Zhao Huan came up from the stairs carrying two bowls of wontons. When he saw the two men standing in the corridor, he paused.
“What are you two doing here? Playing door gods?”
Shen Jinghong stepped aside to clear the doorway.
Zhao Huan carried the wontons inside. He placed one bowl in front of Shi Huai, then sat down in a chair with the other bowl in his hands.
Shi Huai lowered his eyes to the bowl.
The wonton wrappers were so thin they were almost transparent, revealing the pink meat filling within. A few chopped scallions and a small pinch of dried shrimp floated on the surface of the broth, while steam curled gently upward.
He picked up his spoon, scooped up a wonton, and put it into his mouth. The wrapper was smooth and slippery, and the meat filling was tender and juicy, mingling with the salty fragrance of the dried shrimp and the fresh aroma of the scallions.
After swallowing, he scooped up another. He ate several more before setting down his spoon and looking up at Zhao Huan.
“You bought these?”
“Mm. There was a wonton stall downstairs. The line was so long that I figured they had to be good.”
Zhao Huan pushed his own bowl toward Shi Huai. “Eat some more. You can have this bowl too.”
Shi Huai shook his head and pushed it back. “I’ve had enough. Eat yours.”
Zhao Huan didn’t stand on ceremony. He picked up the bowl and slurped down the wontons noisily. Sweat soon covered his forehead, and beads of it appeared on the tip of his nose.
When he finished, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked up at Shi Huai. His gaze paused for an instant on the white bandage around Shi Huai’s wrist, and his lips moved.
“Shi Huai, what are you planning to do next? Are you still heading south?”
“Of course.”
Zhao Huan opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, but swallowed the words before they could leave him. He picked up the empty bowl and rose to his feet.
“All right. As long as you know what you’re doing. I’ll head downstairs first and return the bowls.”
When he reached the doorway, he suddenly stopped and looked back at Shi Huai.
“If you change your mind and want to return to the capital, I’ll go with you.”
Without waiting for Shi Huai to answer, he carried the bowls away.
Zhao Huan’s footsteps echoed through the corridor, gradually fading into the distance.
Xie Zhaolin leaned against a pillar at the other end of the corridor, holding a bowl of wontons he had barely touched. His gaze rested on the half-closed door to Shi Huai’s room.
After standing there for a long while, he placed the now-cold wontons on the windowsill and turned to go downstairs.
That afternoon, Shi Huai finished packing and prepared to set out.
Li Yi and the ten personal guards were already lined up outside the inn.
All ten wore identical black tunics. Short sabers hung from their waists, and their faces were dark and weathered, their eyes sharp.
Behind the counter, the innkeeper stared at the formation outside. The beads of his abacus clattered loudly as they scattered across the floor.
Qinghe came downstairs with the oranges in her arms. When she saw the men outside, her steps faltered for a moment before she quickly resumed walking.
She stuffed the oranges into the travel chest, leaving only a narrow gap so they could breathe, then climbed into the carriage and took her seat.
Shi Huai came down the stairs wearing a long stone-blue robe. The white bandage around his wrist was hidden beneath his sleeve, leaving no trace of his injury.
He nodded to the innkeeper, then turned and walked out.
Li Yi led a chestnut-red horse toward him.
“Young Master, I’ll lead the way. Four men will cover the rear, and the rest will guard both sides.”
“There’s no need to make such a fuss. I’m not setting off to war.”
Shi Huai swung onto the horse and tugged the reins. The horse turned in a circle where it stood.
Li Yi did not respond. He mounted his own horse, waved a hand, and the ten men spread out in a fan-shaped formation, surrounding Shi Huai’s carriage in the center.
Shen Jinghong rode beside Shi Huai and glanced at him, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
“With this kind of entourage, you’ve got an even grander procession than the Crown Prince.”
Shi Huai ignored the remark. He gently squeezed the horse’s belly with his legs, and the animal began walking toward the outskirts of the town.
The Third Prince rode at the very back of the procession, with Zhao Huan and Xie Zhaolin beside him.
Zhao Huan sat on his horse, yawning repeatedly. Several times, he nearly slid from the saddle, only to be caught by Xie Zhaolin before he fell.
The procession left the town, joined the main road, and continued south.
Fields of wheat stretched along either side of the road. The wheat had already begun to form ears, and the lush green spread as far as the eye could see. The wind swept across it, sending wave after wave rolling through the fields.
In the distance, cooking smoke curled above the villages, while the faint sounds of crowing roosters and barking dogs drifted through the air.
Shi Huai rode atop his horse, his gaze resting on the fields of wheat, but his mind was occupied with something else.
The note bearing the words “Liu Family Hamlet,” the steward with a capital accent, and the route from Qingyang Town to Linshui County and then to the Yellow River ferry—all the clues pointed in the same direction.
Shen Jinghong urged his horse closer and lowered his voice.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking about something.”
“What?”
