Bai Xianyu felt as if he were a thief caught in the act, frozen in the dead of night as the master suddenly awakens. He dared not move, nor could he flee—his body stiff, breath suspended—wishing himself as invisible as air. He silently prayed to Buddha and Bodhisattvas, fervently hoping that His Highness the King of Chu would not glimpse him. Yet while he longed for invisibility, the one clinging to him had no such desire.
Ye Jiao's voice rang out loudly enough to rouse even a slumbering hog. "Little Fish," she cooed coquettishly and sweetly, "tell me, shall we stroll through the East or West Market, or perhaps visit Qujiang Pool?"
Bai Xianyu trembled all over and whispered, "Commander, I believe I must take a stroll down the Yellow Springs Road."
And a terribly miserable one at that.
Everyone in the capital knew that the King of Chu's refusal to marry Ye Jiao had brought disgrace upon the Duke's household. But Bai Xianyu saw it differently. On that day at Huachao Pavilion, if Yan Congzheng merely desired to nibble at Ye Jiao, Li Ce seemed intent on swallowing her whole. Neither of those two were men of virtue. By comparison, Bai Xianyu preferred to serve diligently under Li Jing. Li Jing was simple and easily deceived.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Ye Jiao dug her fingers hard into Bai Xianyu's back, twisting his face with pain, every hair standing on end.
"Cooperate properly," she whispered threateningly, "or my foot will be your Yellow Springs Road."
Bai Xianyu shivered with genuine terror. Death was inevitable either way; he might as well risk it! His voice suddenly rose louder than Ye Jiao's, almost a shout: "Let's... let's go to Qujiang Pool. I'll rent a boat for you, Commander!"
If the sole heir of the Bai family's fate was to drown himself, no one could prevent it.
Unexpectedly, Ye Jiao squeezed him again. "Don't call me 'Commander,'" she said, resting her forehead against his arm, enunciating each word with care, "Call me Jiao Jiao."
Jiao Jiao... Bai Xianyu's limbs and lips tingled uncontrollably. How was she "delicate" in the slightest? Yet he had already thrown caution to the wind; no boundary was too low. For survival, he was willing to abandon all limits.
"Jiao Jiao!" Bai Xianyu boldly grasped her arm. "Look, isn't that a vendor selling candied hawthorns? Come on, I'll treat you."
Feigning ignorance of Li Ce's approach, he cast his gaze skyward, taking long strides as he turned to lead Ye Jiao away.
But Ye Jiao halted, feigning surprise with wide eyes, and addressed Li Ce: "Oh, Your Highness the King of Chu, out buying medicine?"
A living dead would naturally never be without medicine.
Li Ce's expression was as if he had bitten into bitter medicine, faced a landslide on a mountain climb, or had his roof leak at midnight—bitter and indescribable, yet the gloom in his eyes was tightly concealed.
"Captain Bai, please go ahead. I have matters to discuss with Commander Wu Hou," he said to Bai Xianyu.
Bai Xianyu glanced at Ye Jiao. "Jiao... oh no, Jiao Jiao, may I leave?"
"Wait for me at Qujiang Pool," Ye Jiao replied.
Bai Xianyu hurried away, only to hear Ye Jiao call after him, "Little Fish, take care on the road."
His legs nearly gave out; he almost collapsed.
Only then did Ye Jiao cross her arms and converse with Li Ce. "What's the matter?" she asked, rolling her eyes and kicking a clod of dirt. "Our family doesn't sell medicine, nor do we have the privilege to deal with princes or princesses. Since you refused marriage, there's no need for me to put on a pleasant face."
Li Ce smiled gently—a warm, refreshing smile like the autumn breeze brushing through golden leaves, soothing and easygoing, almost enough to make one forget old grudges.
"Please write a letter to Brother Chang Geng," Li Ce said, "instructing him not to escort the Tibetan envoy through Ganzhou upon their return."
Ye Chang Geng was preparing to escort the Tibetan envoy to pay homage to the Tang Emperor, a fact Ye Jiao was already aware of.
"What's wrong with Ganzhou?" she instinctively asked.
"There was an earthquake there," Li Ce explained, "and the official road is damaged, making passage difficult. It might delay their return."
Though seemingly considerate, Ye Jiao's eyes flickered sharply. "Can't you write the letter yourself? Doesn't my brother see that the road's broken? Mind your own business, don't meddle in the Ye family affairs!"
With that, she turned and walked away, her fluttering robe brushing Li Ce's fingers. The soft, silky fabric felt like a maiden's lips, briefly plunging him into a chasm of longing.
Li Ce stood silently, watching Ye Jiao depart, followed by a group of martial commanders. These once swaggering warriors, who had dared to defy even the Capital Prefect, now followed Ye Jiao like docile colts.
The great Tang's female Martial Commander had become the radiant star of this place.
How splendid.
Ye Jiao strode far ahead, then feigned tidying her robe, glancing back once.
The street bustled with pedestrians, but the tall, graceful figure was nowhere to be seen.
A troupe of Hu barbarians performed fire breathing; the flames shot a yard long, startling a child perched on his father's shoulders into loud cries. The father gently turned and coaxed him toward a candied hawthorn vendor. Before payment was made, the child laughed and ran off to tease a stray dog by the roadside.
The dog paused, confirmed the child had no food, and trotted away, barking outside a nearby eatery.
A passing carriage tossed a steamed bun outside the eatery; the dog seized it and ran off.
Chang'an was prosperous and bustling, yet Ye Jiao's heart felt as barren as a harvested field, left with only countless dry stalks—painful and unyielding to tread upon.
"Bastard!" she muttered under her breath, causing the martial commanders beside her to warn, "Commander, shall we head to Qujiang Pool?"
"No," Ye Jiao said, "I have no mood for amusement. Let's patrol the streets properly. The Tibetans will arrive soon—we must not disgrace the great Tang."
Still, what of Captain Bai?
The commanders exchanged glances, sensing Ye Jiao's foul mood and dared not utter a word.
That afternoon, Bai Xianyu lay on a boat drifting in Qujiang Pool, listening to music for two hours, yet Ye Jiao never arrived.
He comforted himself—aside from the expense, such days could be endured.
On his way back, Bai Xianyu encountered Li Jing out for a stroll.
"Why isn't His Highness the King of Chu's retinue with you?" Bai Xianyu clung eagerly, smiling.
"He doesn't want to come out," Li Jing said listlessly. "Recently, Xiao Jiu's been busy with unknown affairs, leaving me quite bored."
Bai Xianyu quickly proposed, "How about... His Highness disguises himself and joins me for a walk to the casino?"
"No," Li Jing refused without hesitation. "I'd lose money there."
Bai Xianyu was surprised by the frugality of the Prince of Zhao.
"I'm not afraid of losing money," he urged. "Isn't that the thrill?"
"Hmph," Li Jing snorted. "If I wanted thrills, I'd find them at home—no need to gamble. There's a woman practicing archery there, ready to discipline me anytime. That's a thrill that costs nothing."
Bai Xianyu was at a loss for words, but Li Jing suddenly spoke solemnly.
"Uh... cough, Ye Jiao, you'd better not make trouble by seeking marriage. I say this for your own good."
Bai Xianyu blinked, thinking they were of one mind!
Yet his eyes shifted, feigning sorrow, inner conflict, unwillingness, and heartache. After a long performance, he sighed deeply, rubbing the jade pendant at his waist, hesitating to speak.
Li Jing hurriedly added, "Don't you want to meet my second brother? When he returns, I'll take you to visit Prince Jin's residence."
Prince Jin Li Zhang was the most esteemed and hardest to befriend among the princes.
Bai Xianyu felt embarrassed yet resolute, taking a deep breath.
"Since Prince Zhao says so, I obey. I'll write my sister, urging her not to act rashly and trouble the Emperor. As for myself..."
Rubbing his tearless eyes, he said, "I'll just be her subordinate, watching her happy and content—that alone suffices."
A truly moving declaration.
Li Jing smiled, nodding gravely and patting Bai Xianyu's shoulder.
"Xiao Jiu, this is all the help I can offer. I don't know what game you're playing, but hurry up, because the woman you fancy is extraordinarily sought after—unbelievably so."
It seemed there were too many fearless souls in this world.
Li Jing pressed the Mount Tai stone in his left sleeve and the talisman in his right, feeling somewhat relieved. He did not want to see that woman—not at all.
Autumn had barely begun, yet the northern land was already frosty and cold.
Ye Chang Geng emerged from his tent, wrapped in winter clothes prepared by Ye Jiao.
His army encamped in a six-flower formation, protecting the Tibetan envoy at the center.
Though on the border of the great Tang and it was night, Ye Chang Geng felt no anxiety.
Having been away for half a year, a scar now marked his face.
The biting northern winds strangely pleased him.
No wonder his sister always loved reciting rugged frontier soldier poems—he resolved to memorize more upon returning to Chang'an.
The Tibetan envoy's main tent still glowed; presumably, the Tibetan princess had yet to retire.
A silhouette moved slowly inside, casting a graceful feminine shadow on the tent.
Ye Chang Geng swiftly turned and headed toward a distant outpost.
Deep within the forest, a pair of gleaming green eyes watched him intently, restless and eager.
Behind those eyes, countless more gathered silently...