The Medicine Valley was located in the south.
Traveling at a steady pace, by the time they arrived, the weather already felt like summer. Gao Yuexing couldn’t help but change into lighter clothes.
True to its name, the Medicine Valley was indeed a place of picturesque mountains and clear waters.
Upon arrival, Gao Yuexing hadn’t yet had time to settle her luggage before adhering to proper etiquette and paying respects to the Valley Master.
Yaonu personally prepared tea to honor the master-disciple relationship.
After reminiscing, Yaonu introduced Gao Yuexing to the Valley Master.
At first glance, this elderly Valley Master gave Gao Yuexing the impression of someone with the demeanor of a sage, possessing extraordinary vitality.
It was said that the Valley Master was over a hundred years old, yet he looked no older than sixty.
Yaonu said, “Master, the second young lady of the Gao family, though born into wealth and privilege, has a keen interest in studying medicine, so I brought her here.”
The Valley Master’s eyes showed a hint of tenderness. “Such a young age, yet your parents were willing to let you go.”
Gao Yuexing replied, “My parents, of course, were reluctant, but everyone has parents. If others can shoulder certain responsibilities, why can’t I?”
The Valley Master stroked his beard and said, “Little girl, you don’t yet understand the hardships of life. It’s true that everyone has parents, but not everyone is fortunate enough to serve them at their knees. Some are driven by necessity, others by the unpredictability of life. Yet someone who actively seeks out hardship—I’m seeing this for the first time.”
Yaonu spoke up for Gao Yuexing: “Being born in a place of great prosperity isn’t necessarily a blessing. Before coming here, Miss Gao nearly lost her life in a muddleheaded accident, drowning in a river. Some are born under favorable circumstances but don’t make it into the world alive. Others are born safely but aren’t guaranteed a peaceful upbringing.”
The Valley Master sighed. “Very well, since you’ve come, you might as well stay. Yaonu, the guest you brought can stay with you at Xuancao Hall.”
In the Medicine Valley, everyone regarded her as a guest. After all, her identity was evident—her parents were far away in the capital, and Gao Yuexing was destined to return someday to serve her elders. As for her future marriage arrangements, they would still follow her parents’ orders and the matchmaking process. At not yet nine years old, she was different from these wild wanderers of the martial world. Girls from noble families had at most a few short years before they were married off.
Yaonu brought her to Xuancao Hall and said, “You like reading books. Without boasting, the medical knowledge in our Medicine Valley is richer than even the imperial palace’s collection. There aren’t many rules here. The library is at the back; feel free to browse. Just take care of the books, and if you don’t understand something, come ask me.”
Gao Yuexing expressed her thanks, quickly freshened up, and, following Yaonu’s directions, found the library of the Medicine Valley. She dove right in, feeling completely in her element.
There were a few lively young disciples in the Medicine Valley. Upon hearing that a delicate and adorable little girl had arrived, they vied for a chance to peek at her in the library.
The disciples the Valley Master took in were mostly children who had endured hardships but were inherently kind-hearted. The practice of medicine required both skillful hands and a compassionate heart, with temperament being of utmost importance.
During her time here, Gao Yuexing rarely encountered any hostility. She often reflected that this place was truly a paradise on earth.
Besides reading, Gao Yuexing also took it upon herself to help with tasks around the Medicine Valley.
The valley had its own herb gardens, stretching across the hills.
Often at dawn, Gao Yuexing would carry a bamboo basket and follow Yaonu to the herb fields to gather medicinal plants. Back at Xuancao Hall, she would watch Yaonu process the herbs.
Sometimes, the same herb, when processed differently, would have completely distinct effects.
Gao Yuexing was eager to follow along and expand her knowledge.
After settling into life in the Medicine Valley, one matter continued to weigh on her mind.
Before leaving the palace, Gao Yuexing had made a promise that remained unfulfilled.
She lived in the Medicine Valley, where the vast expanse of land provided her with endless resources to gather. She mixed clay herself, selected suitable sand and stones, and piled up materials in the small courtyard of Xuancao Hall, engrossing herself for several days.
Unexpectedly, creating a sand table was far more challenging than it seemed.
After a few days, Gao Yuexing had already used up nearly a small basin of clay. She repeatedly tried making multiple pieces, all of which ended in failure.
With the arrival of summer, the days had grown sweltering.
The worst part of summer evenings was the mosquitoes, but Xuancao Hall seemed to have very few of them. Yaonu had placed specially formulated medicinal powder in her sachet, and calamus was regularly burned outside the courtyard in the mornings and evenings. As a result, Gao Yuexing remained refreshed and free from mosquito troubles, even feeling at ease enough to play in the courtyard late into the night.
Once again, Gao Yuexing ruined her sand table. Frustrated, she threw aside the wooden mold with a snap and sat there sulking.
When she looked up, she noticed a young boy standing outside the courtyard fence, staring at her.
The boy held a book in his hands and seemed to have come looking for Yaonu.
Gao Yuexing recognized him since he visited frequently. She tidied her disheveled clothes and said, “Sister Yaonu hasn’t returned yet.”
The boy, holding his book, looked disappointed. “Oh—I came across something I didn’t understand while reading, so I wanted to ask my senior sister. Since she’s not back yet, I guess I’ll wait a bit longer.”
Gao Yuexing replied, “You might have to wait a while. When Sister Yaonu left, she told me she’d return late, most likely after nightfall.”
The boy, standing outside the gate, looked even more disappointed. “Alright then—”
Living a carefree life, Gao Yuexing couldn’t help meddling in others’ business. Today, she couldn’t resist getting involved again. “What don’t you understand? Why don’t you tell me? Maybe we can figure it out together.”
Hearing this, the boy smiled, immediately pushed open the gate, and sat down across from her with his book.
He was holding a copy of The Heart of Danxi. He flipped to a page and read aloud: “‘The injuries caused by the six excesses and seven emotions, overeating and movement, disharmony of visceral qi, and the obstruction of breath lead to shortness of breath. It may also be caused by a deficiency in both the spleen and kidneys or by physical weakness, all of which can result in dyspnea…’”
This topic happened to align with Gao Yuexing’s area of interest.
Though young, Gao Yuexing’s understanding of medicine was only superficial. When she first began studying medicine, she had focused on conditions related to shortness of breath.
Thus, she could speak a few words on the subject.
But only a few.
Gao Yuexing’s knowledge was shallow, but the boy was intelligent and grasped concepts quickly.
Before long, they ran out of things to discuss.
The boy lowered his gaze to the mess in front of her and said, “I’ve been standing outside for a while… Are you making a sand table?”
Gao Yuexing, disheartened, began tidying up her materials, preparing to call it a day and try again tomorrow. She replied, “Yes, but my hands are too clumsy. I can’t figure it out on my own. I’ll need to consult some books.”
The boy chuckled. “Why don’t you ask me? My family has been craftsmen for generations.”
Gao Yuexing’s eyes lit up. “Really? You can do it?”
The boy nodded. “A little. I can teach you, but it’s late today, and the light isn’t good.”
Gao Yuexing said, “Then tomorrow. Thank you in advance, Senior Brother.” Since she was the youngest in the valley, she addressed everyone as Senior Brother or Senior Sister.
Hearing her call him that, the boy lowered his head and awkwardly coughed before saying, “Alright. Tomorrow, I’ll come back.”
Having finally found a solution, Gao Yuexing, who hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days, finally rested well. The next morning, when she opened her eyes, Yaonu was already in the courtyard, cooking porridge over a pot. Gao Yuexing helped pass firewood and casually said, “Sister Yaonu, a senior brother came looking for you last night.”
Yaonu: “Who?”
Gao Yuexing, not knowing his name, replied, “The one who has been coming frequently lately.”
Yaonu understood. “Oh, him. What did he want?”
Gao Yuexing recounted what they had discussed the previous day.
Yaonu paused her work and fell into a moment of contemplation.
Noticing her unusual expression, Gao Yuexing asked, “Sister Yaonu?”
Yaonu snapped out of her thoughts, furrowed her brows, and said, “Oh, it’s nothing. The porridge is ready.”
After breakfast, Yaonu grabbed her bamboo basket and headed to the herb garden. Gao Yuexing, having plans to work on the sand table, stayed behind.
Shortly after Yaonu left, the boy from the previous day arrived.
He was carrying a basket, and Gao Yuexing greeted him respectfully. “Senior Brother.” Lowering her gaze, she noticed that the basket contained clay, sand, and some tools she didn’t recognize.
It seemed he was indeed reliable.
Taking him more seriously, Gao Yuexing asked, “May I know Senior Brother’s name?”
The boy replied, “Langdu.”
There was a faint shyness in his voice, and he avoided looking at her directly, his gaze never crossing the boundary of politeness.
Gao Yuexing found the name unexpected but didn’t comment, only repeating it, “Senior Brother Langdu…”
It still felt a bit odd.
Langdu said, “Just call me Senior Brother. So, what kind of sand table are you making? Do you have a design? Let me take a look.”
Gao Yuexing shook her head.
She had once had a design in mind, planning to model it after the one in Zheng Qianye’s study. However, she had since changed her mind.
She said, “I’m just playing around… I want to make one of Xuancao Hall.”
Langdu said, “That’s easy.” He then asked, “What size are you thinking?”
Gao Yuexing couldn’t answer.
Seeing her uncertainty, Langdu rephrased his question. “Do you want it to fit on a desk? Or something you can carry around?”
This was much easier for Gao Yuexing to answer. “Something I can carry around.”
Once he understood her requirements, Langdu got to work.
Gao Yuexing soon realized he was truly skilled, needing no assistance from her. So she asked eagerly, “Senior Brother, could you teach me? I want to try making it myself.”
Langdu paused briefly, then agreed. “Sure, but it’ll take longer that way.”
Gao Yuexing said, “That’s fine. I have time.”
Langdu silently took out his tools and handed them to her.
Following his detailed instructions, Gao Yuexing worked for about two hours. Finally, a miniature sand table took shape.
In the composition of the sand table, Xuancao Hall was placed slightly off-center in the upper-right corner, while the other areas were planned to be filled in realistically, based on the surrounding landscape.
Gao Yuexing was completely engrossed in her work.
When the sun rose high in the sky, Langdu noticed that Gao Yuexing was sweating profusely. He fetched some cool well water, to which Gao Yuexing expressed her thanks, drank it all in one gulp, and continued working on her project.
By her estimation, at her current pace, this small project would likely be completed by the next evening.
That evening, Yaonu returned earlier than usual. Upon entering the courtyard and seeing Langdu there, she called him inside.
Gao Yuexing paid no attention.
Langdu stood with his hands at his sides in front of Yaonu. “Senior Sister.”
Yaonu said, “You’re teaching her how to make a sand table?”
Langdu replied, “Yes. I saw that Junior Sister often looked troubled, so I decided to help.”
Yaonu asked, “You have this skill? How is it that I didn’t know?”
Langdu said, “I only know a little bit.”
Yaonu replied, “A little bit, huh? More like you’re making it up as you go along. Someone has already complained to me that you’ve been neglecting your duties, spending several days playing with mud in the fields.”
Langdu, as if caught in a lie, lowered his head even further, his face burning with embarrassment.
With a stern expression, Yaonu assumed the authoritative demeanor of a senior disciple. She said, “You joined earlier than most, and Master often praises you for your intelligence. How is it that you can’t even comprehend the basics of The Heart of Danxi? Are you regressing?”
Langdu, realizing his hidden thoughts had been laid bare, gave up entirely on trying to explain and remained silent.
Yaonu asked, “Are you unhappy?”
Langdu shook his head.
Yaonu stared at him for a while, then sighed. “Langdu, it’s not my intention to embarrass or scold you. But that young lady, Miss Gao, has a childhood sweetheart back in the capital. They’re deeply attached, and the Emperor has even verbally promised their marriage. She’s putting so much effort into making this sand table because I’ll be going to the capital in the autumn to deliver medicine to that young man. The sand table Miss Gao is making is a gift for him.”
Langdu felt as if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning on a clear day. He staggered out, completely disoriented.
Meanwhile, Gao Yuexing continued to work diligently on her sand table.
Langdu didn’t dare approach her anymore. He could only watch from afar, and in the end, without disturbing anyone, he quietly closed the door and left.
It wasn’t until evening that Gao Yuexing realized Langdu had left. Feeling she had been impolite, she quickly prepared some sweet, refreshing fruits as a token of gratitude. Since she didn’t know where Langdu lived and only knew he often tended the herb garden, she asked Yaonu to deliver the gift on her behalf.
Langdu’s sudden appearance and disappearance seemed like nothing more than an insignificant episode.
Over the next few days, Gao Yuexing completed the sand table and fixed it securely inside a palm-sized box, ready for Yaonu to take to the palace in the autumn and deliver it for her.
Would he understand her feelings when he saw the sand table?
Gao Yuexing felt restless. She had left so decisively—how much pain must he have felt?
Would he hate her for it?
She wondered how he was doing now. Though the Emperor was not the most reliable, he still doted on him, giving him whatever he wanted. Materially, he was likely well-off.
But Li Fuxiang was not someone who cared much for gold and riches.
Gao Yuexing counted on her fingers. This winter, he should be turning thirteen. However, as he now held the title of the Fifth Prince, one year had to be subtracted—making him effectively twelve.
He still had four years to go before he could officially join the army at the western frontier.
She also gave herself four years.
They would meet again someday.
After autumn, Yaonu headed to the capital, carrying the small sand table Gao Yuexing had made. Following Gao Yuexing’s instructions, she privately handed the item to Li Fuxiang, ensuring no one else was present.
The entire time Yaonu was away, Gao Yuexing couldn’t eat or sleep well.
Half a month later, Yaonu returned to the valley.
Gao Yuexing was the first to wait outside the valley gates.
When Yaonu saw her, a small figure hopping and skipping around, she dismounted and scooped her up onto the horse’s back.
Gao Yuexing giggled and asked, “Sister Yaonu, did he accept it?”
Yaonu replied, “Of course.”
Gao Yuexing followed up eagerly, “Did he say anything?”
Yaonu answered, “He didn’t say a word.”
Gao Yuexing felt a twinge of disappointment and let out a soft “oh,” but she quickly brightened again and asked, “Is he doing well now?”
Yaonu said, “He’s doing well.”
Unable to contain her curiosity, Gao Yuexing pressed, “What do you mean by ‘well’?”
Yaonu chuckled. “He’s arrogant because of the Emperor’s favor. Even when he rides a horse through the bustling market, no one dares to say a word against him. His wealth is unimaginable, and most importantly, he’s grown into such a handsome young man. Just by strolling on horseback through the streets, countless girls hand him their embroidered handkerchiefs.”
Gao Yuexing, having pressed for details, ended up making herself uncomfortable.
When they arrived at Xuancao Hall, Yaonu dismounted with her in her arms and said, “Enough teasing. He asked me to bring something back for you.”
Gao Yuexing’s eyes lit up. “What is it?”
Yaonu pulled out a silk handkerchief from her bosom. She carefully unfolded it layer by layer, revealing a small white jade horse inside.
The moment Gao Yuexing saw it, she recalled the origin of the jade horse.
It was from the winter when they first met. Li Fuxiang had just stepped out of the Xiaonan Pavilion a few days prior.
That winter, clear days were rare.
But it was still cold. Even with the sun, the light was pale and lifeless.
He had been reading The Classic of Mountains and Seas
She had sat down beside him and asked if he liked horseback riding.
The pair of white jade horses had been a gift from the Zheng family.
Delicate and translucent, they were exceptionally beautiful.
Li Fuxiang’s response back then was something she remembered with perfect clarity.
First, he nodded, then he shook his head.
They had planned to go to the Imperial Stables the following spring to pick out two young horses.
Unfortunately, Gao Yuexing left the capital, and both young horses remained in the palace.
The pair of white jade horses had always been displayed in the most prominent place in Li Fuxiang’s chamber.
This time, Li Fuxiang had split the pair, sending one to her through Yaonu.
Gao Yuexing carefully stored the small jade horse, forced a smile, and said, “I understand what he means. I will ride this little horse to see him.”
Four years had passed since her departure.
Time flowed slowly in the mountains.
In the early spring of the 18th year of Jingle, the Fox Hu Tribe, thought to have been extinguished, rose from the ashes and once again plundered the borders of the Great Xu Dynasty.
Zheng Yunji was ordered to the western frontier, and half a month later, reports of the battle reached the capital. Over the past few years, the Fox Hu Tribe had annexed several small neighboring states and allied with some restless nomadic tribes, making their strength formidable and their ambitions for Great Xu evident.
The Emperor lamented, “If the weeds are not uprooted, the spring wind will bring them back to life.”
Zheng Qianye was once again appointed to lead the army.
The Emperor’s intention was clear: to uproot the weeds entirely.
This time, Zheng Qianye took not only his two recently-of-age grandsons but also a prince.
The Emperor’s most cherished fifth son, Li Fuxiang.
What could Li Fuxiang possibly understand about warfare? He had started his education late, was in poor health, and had limited skills in riding and archery. Not only did he lack diligence in his training, but he also had a tendency to shirk responsibility and be lazy.
Everyone understood that the Emperor sent him along simply to help him earn some merit.
On the battlefield, where swords and spears have no mercy, all glory is won with blood and life. Yet now, a pampered prince, idle and fragile, was thrust into their ranks. Who could say how much trouble he would cause? These men of iron and honor would have to share their hard-earned glory with him. Though they said nothing openly, behind his back, many spat in disdain.
Li Fuxiang remained indifferent to the open hostility directed at him in the military camp.
The Emperor ordered him to go, so he went, taking on a middling role—something like an assistant general.
Before leaving, he deliberately packed an entire cart of luggage, making a flamboyant display in the marching column and drawing even more disdain.
On the march.
Zheng Yan, unable to hold back, glanced at the cart several times before leaning over to Zheng Qianye and whispering, “Grandfather—”
Zheng Qianye cut him off. “Call me Marshal.”
Zheng Yan corrected himself, “Marshal, my little cousin—”
Before he could finish, Zheng Qianye sighed heavily, clearly exasperated. “Leave him be. Let him do as he pleases.”
Li Fuxiang often fell behind while riding, much to the annoyance of his attendants. They suggested he ride in the cart instead, but he refused.
He wasn’t foolish. On such a long and arduous journey, the constant jolting of the cart would undoubtedly make him sick to his stomach.