Li Fuxiang was assigned to the subordinates of General Ji Wei.
Ji Wei was a veteran who had followed Zheng Qianye for over twenty years. Before setting out, he spent several days and nights pondering but couldn’t figure out Zheng Qianye’s intentions.
Zheng Qianye had always been strict in his military governance, showing no favoritism. Even his own sons and grandsons were treated according to the rules on the battlefield. Military merits were earned with blood and sweat; if you had the ability, you seized them. If not, you stepped aside for someone more capable.
But this time, when the emperor forcibly inserted a pampered young prince into the military, Zheng Qianye not only didn’t object but personally arranged his assignment.
Ji Wei, being older and meticulous in his thinking with extensive experience in marching and warfare, was repeatedly retained in the army, unwillingly deferred from retirement. For this expedition, his subordinates were of average aptitude, mostly young and inexperienced, likely not suited for deployment at the frontlines.
Ji Wei instinctively felt that Zheng Qianye assigned Li Fuxiang to him so that he could look after him.
Yet, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of uncertainty. After all, this wasn’t how Grand Marshal Zheng used to behave.
Before setting off, Ji Wei had been baffled, but upon seeing Li Fuxiang for the first time, the clouds parted, and everything became clear.
The army traveled swiftly through the night, setting up camp upon nightfall.
When it came time to rest, Li Fuxiang’s carriage came in handy.
While others made do in the open air, he insisted on climbing into his carriage, which was warm, windproof, and fully equipped with bedding, ensuring a comfortable sleep until dawn. The accompanying soldiers stared in disbelief. One hot-tempered soldier, hands on hips, spat at the carriage and shouted, “What the hell is this, a spring outing? I’ve lived over twenty years, and this is the first time I’ve seen something like this…”
Zheng Qianye arrived just in time to hear this remark. The small soldiers, upon seeing the Grand Marshal, were momentarily flustered. Zheng Qianye made a calming gesture and lifted the curtain to enter Li Fuxiang’s carriage.
Li Fuxiang poked his head out from the blankets.
Seeing him bundled up tightly, Zheng Qianye adjusted the blankets to expose more of his face. “You little thing, you really know how to take care of yourself.”
Li Fuxiang replied, “Grand Marshal.”
Though nearly seventeen, he still had a delicate, youthful appearance.
Zheng Qianye patted his head. “I’m complimenting you. Your health is your capital; take good care of yourself and don’t get sick… Are you scared?”
Li Fuxiang showed no trace of fear and shook his head.
Zheng Qianye said, “Do you remember how, as a child, you used to pester your grandfather to tell you stories? After all these years, you’ve finally gotten the chance to experience real swords and spears firsthand.”
As Li Fuxiang grew older, he stopped clinging to Zheng Qianye like he used to. Instead, he learned to dig through the dust-covered military reports on his own.
Whenever he asked, the emperor never refused him.
Zheng Qianye continued, “They all think you’re a waste in this lifetime, but I disagree. You have great aptitude, better than many kids I’ve seen, including my own three little rascals. Good boy, one day you’ll become a dazzling young general, and your grandfather is waiting for that day.”
Even a pearl covered in dust will eventually shine. Li Fuxiang’s deliberate modesty couldn’t escape Zheng Qianye’s keen, worldly eyes.
Though he didn’t know what this child truly thought deep down, Zheng Qianye had always been looking forward to Li Fuxiang’s growth.
After saying a few words, Zheng Qianye left the carriage. He didn’t seem to have anything important to do; it appeared he was just taking a casual stroll.
But everyone understood what needed to be understood.
Zheng Qianye was clearly protecting the young prince. Having spent half his life in the military, how could Zheng Qianye be unaware of the various means used to ostracize others?
Ji Wei approached and deliberately asked in front of everyone, “Grand Marshal, you have to give us brothers some guidance. How should we handle the young master in the carriage?”
Zheng Qianye replied, “Handle him as you would handle anyone else. As long as he doesn’t cause trouble, let him be. While he may have enjoyed endless luxury in the capital, as a member of the royal family, he ought to experience the hardships of military life. Let everyone know what I’ve said: every military merit comes from hard work and sweat. Whoever earns it deserves it. You don’t need to hold back on the battlefield—kill as freely as you like!”
What Zheng Qianye said personally served as reassurance for everyone.
The strange atmosphere in Ji Wei’s camp finally eased somewhat, though that carriage remained an eye-catching presence in the camp.
The soldiers set up stoves, cooked soup with vegetables, baked some dry rations, and generously sent a portion to the occupant of the carriage.
Li Fuxiang thanked them and, as a gesture of return, handed the soldier who delivered the food a basket of pears.
Around the campfire, the soldiers chatted endlessly, their conversation repeatedly circling back to Li Fuxiang.
After all, he was the newest and most intriguing addition.
— “Have you noticed? The Grand Marshal seems to treat him exceptionally well.”
— “He seems to have grown up under the Grand Marshal’s watch. The Grand Marshal even taught him archery and riding. I used to see him often visiting the Grand Marshal’s residence.”
— “Strange, though. He doesn’t seem at all like someone trained by the Grand Marshal.”
— “He really doesn’t. Remember that time when Young Master Zheng Yan was lured into visiting a brothel out of ignorance? Before he even entered, the Grand Marshal happened to pass by, caught him on the spot, and whipped him in the street.”
— “Ah, and do you remember the Third Prince? He was said to be the Grand Marshal’s own grandson. He was so unruly back then, and the Grand Marshal often disciplined him. Too bad he died young.”
— “I’ve heard that the birth mother of our Fifth Prince, Lady Xu, used to serve as the personal attendant to Miss Zheng. Perhaps the Grand Marshal’s affection for her stems from his love for Miss Zheng?”
— “That’s absurd. That’s not how affection works.”
— “Sigh, it’s tragic. Our Grand Marshal, in his old age, lost both his daughter and his grandson…”
All of Li Fuxiang’s unspeakable past had been wiped clean. For example, the ten years he spent in the Xiaonan Pavilion, or his true identity.
The emperor could not afford to leave such a stain on his own historical record.
Nor did he want Li Fuxiang’s past imprisonment to spread across the land, becoming gossip for common folk over their meals.
Aside from the core of the political circle, few knew the truth of the matter.
Years had flown by, and when the long-lost Third Prince was suddenly mentioned, everyone present felt as though it was a story from a lifetime ago.
Ji Wei, holding his bowl of soup, sat among his subordinates chatting idly. Suddenly, he asked, “Have any of you ever seen Miss Zheng?”
Zheng Yungou had long since married into the royal family and was supposed to be addressed as Imperial Noble Consort by the world.
Yet, within the Zheng family army, they steadfastly continued to call her Miss Zheng.
The soldiers all shook their heads. “How could we be so fortunate? When Miss Zheng passed away, we were still playing in the mud back in the village fields.”
Ji Wei scraped the bottom of his pot, unwilling to waste even a sip of soup, poured it into his bowl, and drank it all. Turning his gaze to the carriage, he said: “If any of you had seen Miss Zheng, you’d understand it all clearly now. Ha, what’s there to envy about the boundless wealth of the royal family? Behind the scenes, who knows how much filth there really is…”
Inside the carriage, Li Fuxiang’s face was half-buried in the blankets, fast asleep. The carriage’s doors and windows were sealed with oiled paper, keeping out even the slightest chill.
It had to be said that the young and vigorous junior soldiers were bursting with energy. Despite chattering away until late into the night yesterday and setting off before dawn, they were still brimming with vitality.
Li Fuxiang, however, had gone to bed earlier than anyone else, woken later than anyone else, and even while riding on horseback, looked drowsy. He listened as a young officer riding beside him discussed how many more days it would take to reach Xiang City.
Li Fuxiang finally spoke up, asking, “What’s the situation in Xiang City now?”
The young officer was taken aback for a moment before realizing the question was directed at him. He replied stiffly, “According to the latest battle report, while the situation isn’t critical, it’s far from optimistic.”
Xiang City wasn’t at the western frontlines. Before reaching Xiang City, there were several defensive layers along the border, dozens of miles away.
For the Fox Hu forces to have advanced all the way to the outskirts of Xiang City demonstrated their aggressive momentum, not to be underestimated.
At that moment, a cavalry scout rode up to report: “Marshal Zheng orders that after crossing Tieshui Cliff, the army will split into eastern and western lines for advancement. The Marshal will lead the vanguard to Xiang City to join the defensive troops. General Ji, you are to take the western route via Jitian Mountain and must cut off the Fox Hu’s supply line.”
Ji Wei, sitting astride his horse, shouted firmly, “This subordinate accepts the order.” His voice carried steadily across the ranks.
Jitian Mountain?
Someone asked, “Jitian Mountain? Isn’t that a detour? Is the Fox Hu transporting their supplies from there?”
Ji Wei glanced at the written orders passed along by the scout, gave them a quick read, and relayed the contents to his men. “Apparently, there’s a bandit nest on Jitian Mountain. According to intelligence, those bandits have long betrayed the nation and defected to the Fox Hu. Incredible—they’ve stolen our horses, attacked our cities, and now they’re planning to use our grain supplies. In these years of resurgence, the Fox Hu must have been training in shamelessness.”
In Zheng’s army, orders were absolute. The moment the command reached them, Marshal Zheng had already selected troops and galloped ahead.
Ji Wei, with the remaining ten thousand soldiers, crossed Tieshui Cliff, changed course, and prepared to take the western route.
This detour made the journey longer, and with time pressing, they had to increase their marching speed. Every bit they quickened their pace could mean fewer casualties at the front.
In such situations, any dead weight became an obvious hindrance.
Ji Wei personally approached Li Fuxiang and said, “Your Highness, we’ll need to pick up the pace. Please bear with us and keep up, alright?”
Ji Wei had prepared himself to accommodate the prince as if he were serving an ancestor, but to his surprise, Li Fuxiang was surprisingly agreeable and simply said, “Alright.”
Thus, although he occasionally fell behind, Li Fuxiang managed to stay within a reasonable distance, never completely out of sight. He maintained his position just at the edge of Ji Wei’s line of sight.
As for his carriage, it never lagged behind either.
The Jinyiwei guards tasked with protecting him had disguised themselves as soldiers, blending into the ranks and taking turns driving the carriage.
By nightfall, they finally approached the foot of Jitian Mountain.
Ji Wei set up camp on the spot, spread out a map on the table, and began discussing with his deputy general. “Marshal Zheng’s orders came unexpectedly. We’ve never even mentioned Jitian Mountain before. I reckon the Marshal must’ve intercepted some intelligence through some means.”
The deputy general, Zhan Ji, a man in his early thirties, leaned on his blade propped on the table, his hands resting on its hilt. “I hate mountain assaults, especially at night. Who knows how many troops they have? What if there’s an ambush waiting for us up there?”
Ji Wei was equally concerned but said, “Time is of the essence. We have to strike swiftly.”
Zhan Ji replied, “We can’t launch a frontal assault.”
“I know,” Ji Wei said. “Marshal Zheng took the majority of our troops. He wouldn’t overlook us when making such a decision. The fact that he left us with this task means he expects us to outsmart them.”
Zhan Ji said, “Marshal Zheng probably has another layer of intention. He wants us to make as little noise as possible and, ideally, take Jitian Mountain without alerting the Fox Hu.”
Ji Wei replied, “Easier said than done. Before it gets too dark, let’s send a team of scouts in disguise to investigate the mountain.”
After finalizing their strategy, the two turned around to find the youngest lieutenant in the history of the Great Xu Dynasty—Li Fuxiang—intently studying the map of Jitian Mountain.
Ji Wei and Zhan Ji exchanged a glance and saw helplessness in each other’s eyes.
They quietly exited the tent.
Ji Wei, attempting to say a few words in Li Fuxiang’s defense, remarked, “Marshal Zheng must have his own considerations for placing His Highness under our command…”
Zhan Ji waved a hand dismissively. “Uncle Ji, I’m an orphan adopted by the Zheng family. I started as a stable boy under the Marshal. I’ve met Miss Zheng before.”
Ji Wei tapped his forehead. “Ah, right. My old brain isn’t what it used to be—I forgot.”
Looking toward Jitian Mountain in the distance, Zhan Ji said, “I’ll personally lead the team into the mountain. Wait for my signal, and under no circumstances act rashly. Regardless of the outcome, I’ll be back by morning.”
A small team of scouts set out at dusk. Dressed in commoners’ clothing with black night garments layered over them, they took a detour to the mountain’s rear, ascending via narrow paths.
To maintain their cover, Zhan Ji abandoned his blade and carried only climbing ropes.
Ji Wei watched them disappear into the distance before returning to the central tent, only to find Li Fuxiang still engrossed in the map. Approaching him, Ji Wei said, “Your Highness, you should rest tonight. Tomorrow will likely be a tough battle. Please, stay by my side when the time comes.”
Finally tearing his gaze from the map, Li Fuxiang asked, “What if there really is an ambush on the mountain? Or if they don’t return by morning?”
His words were blunt, almost ominous, but they addressed scenarios that had to be considered.
Ji Wei, already forming a plan, replied, “Then we’ll have no choice but to attack head-on.”
Li Fuxiang said, “Jitian Mountain is part of Jizhou.”
Ji Wei blinked, uncertain of his meaning.
Li Fuxiang gestured for him to step in front of the map and explained, “In the autumn two years ago, when bandits first began causing trouble on Jitian Mountain, the emperor issued a decree to eradicate them. He even allocated an additional ten thousand soldiers to the Jizhou garrison. Two months later, the Jizhou military reported that the bandit threat on Jitian Mountain had been completely eliminated.”
Ji Wei asked, “Two years ago? The entire bandit threat on Jitian Mountain was eliminated two years ago? Then what’s the deal with the bandit nest on the mountain now?”
Prompted by Li Fuxiang, he vaguely recalled that there had indeed been such an incident two years ago.
However, at the time, the matter seemed minor and was resolved so smoothly that it left only a faint impression, as though it were nothing more than dealing with a ragtag group of vagrants.
Ji Wei asked, “Was there a battle report at the time?”
Li Fuxiang replied, “There was. Just one. The commander of the Jizhou garrison reported in writing: ‘Our forces achieved a decisive victory without a single casualty. Over twenty thousand bandits on Jitian Mountain were completely eradicated.’”
That single report had quickly been buried under the mountain of other paperwork on the emperor’s desk.
Li Fuxiang had stumbled upon it while reviewing records, made a mental note of it, and had felt at the time that something was off. However, after months of vigilance without any unusual activity in Jizhou, his suspicions gradually subsided.
It seemed he had been too quick to let his guard down.
Ji Wei glanced at the map, then down at the ground beneath his feet, as unease began to grow.
At this moment, they stood within the territory of Jizhou.
The rampant banditry on Jitian Mountain had been falsely reported as eradicated by Jizhou.
The Fox Hu had established a grain depot there, yet Jizhou had shown no reaction.
What did this imply?
If Jizhou hadn’t already fallen silently, then its authorities must have colluded with the Fox Hu.
Ji Wei didn’t dare to think further; the more he pondered, the more horrifying the implications became.
With a heavy blow to the table, he exclaimed, “Back then, the Zheng family army should never have withdrawn from the western front! If we had remained stationed here, would we have allowed these rats from the shadows to wreak havoc?”
He wasn’t wrong, but there was another side to the story.
After the Fox Hu suffered a severe blow and peace returned to the western front, if the Zheng family army had refused to return to the capital and instead continued holding ten thousand troops at the border, could the emperor have slept peacefully?
Ji Wei asked, “How does Your Highness know all this?”
Li Fuxiang replied, “I’ve read about it.”
Ji Wei caught the underlying meaning in his words and was startled.
Could Li Fuxiang have free access to the memorials and reports submitted to the emperor by his ministers?
He was only aware that, historically, there had never been trust between emperors and their sons. For the throne, sons could kill fathers, and fathers could kill sons. Not to mention an unentitled prince, even a crown prince with a confirmed position would not dare overstep his authority.
But the emperor’s affection for this son was truly… extraordinary.
Li Fuxiang, for his part, had no concept of overstepping authority. Raised in the Qianqing Palace after being taken out of the Xiaonan Pavilion, he had rolled around on the emperor’s dragon bed and napped on the dragon throne. No one had ever explicitly told him what constituted disrespect or disobedience.
Having said what he needed to say, Li Fuxiang prepared to return to his tent to sleep.
Ji Wei called after him, “Your Highness, in your opinion, how should this situation be resolved?”
Standing at the doorway, Li Fuxiang turned back and confidently replied, “I don’t know.”