Li Fuxiang had timed it perfectly. Not long after he left, Gao Yuexing walked out of the narrow alley, only to find Zheng Qianye standing outside, his face grave.
Gao Yuexing stopped.
Zheng Qianye said, “You saw him.”
She couldn’t hide it from Zheng Qianye, nor did she see any need to lie, so Gao Yuexing replied frankly, “I saw him.”
Zheng Qianye asked, “Where is he?”
Gao Yuexing answered lightly, “Gone.”
Langdu and Xia Tianwu quickly pulled her close, their faces filled with concern. “Are you alright?”
Gao Yuexing shook her head.
Then Zheng Qianye asked again, “What did he say to you?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “He said I should wait for him in the capital—he’ll come back to marry me.”
Zheng Yan, who had been running toward them, almost tripped at these words. Zheng Qianye’s expression grew more complicated as he glanced around, lowered his voice, and frowned. “Little girl, there are so many people here!”
Gao Yuexing knew there were many people, but she didn’t care anymore.
Zheng Qianye was nearly furious. He had chased Li Fuxiang like a rabbit, all this way, and still hadn’t caught him. For a moment, Zheng Qianye suddenly understood the emperor’s absurd decision back in Xiaoshan to use Gao Yuexing as bait to lure Li Fuxiang back to the palace. To be honest, he now felt an impulse to imitate the emperor’s methods.
Thus, he stationed Gao Yuexing right by his side.
From the horse merchants, Zheng Qianye learned that Li Fuxiang and his group had abandoned their horses and armor and disguised themselves as a caravan. Over the past few days, they had already divided into smaller groups and ventured deeper into the Hucha Sea.
Furthermore, Ji Wei and Zhan Ji were likely among the first to leave. If they were still in the city, they wouldn’t have avoided meeting him with Zheng Qianye present.
Zheng Qianye unfolded a map. “Following this route, I might be able to guess what he’s planning…”
Gao Yuexing asked, “Are you going to retreat to the capital?”
Zheng Qianye looked at her and said, “I can’t retreat, but if you want to go back, I will certainly send people to escort you safely to your father.”
Gao Yuexing replied, “I don’t want to go back either.”
Many of the magnificent sights she hadn’t seen in her previous life, she now had the fortune to witness in this one. She wanted to follow in Li Fuxiang’s footsteps and keep moving forward. She understood that breaking free from her cage wasn’t easy. The world was vast; at the very least, she wanted to soar a bit higher.
Zheng Qianye toiled through the night, but as expected, achieved nothing.
Li Fuxiang had already slipped away.
The next morning, Zheng Qianye also ordered his men to disguise themselves, shedding their armor to dress as merchants. Instead of heading deeper into the Hucha Sea, they chose to follow the proper trade routes toward Fox Hu. After all, their numbers were small, and keeping a low profile would increase their chances of passing unnoticed.
Meanwhile, in the capital.
What reached the emperor’s hands faster than the battle reports was a blood-written letter brought back by the Jinyiwei.
Consort Xian, accompanying the emperor during his meal, had the misfortune of witnessing his enraged expression once again.
Clutching the blood-written letter, the emperor swept everything else off the table onto the floor. “The Hucha Sea? Completely vanished? He’s one living person! The Zheng family’s three thousand elite cavalry! How can they just disappear? Have they even looked for them?!”
The Jinyiwei officer knelt, his head touching the ground. “Your Majesty, General Zheng has personally led a group into the Hucha Sea. News is expected to arrive in the coming days.”
Consort Xian ordered the mess on the floor to be cleaned and presented a cup of cooling tea to calm the emperor. She advised, “Your Majesty must stay composed. No news is the best news right now. Our little prince is blessed with great fortune and divine protection. Besides, with General Zheng personally searching, nothing will happen to him.”
The emperor, having traveled through the Western Frontier in his youth, understood what kind of place the Hucha Sea was. Unless there was no retreat, why would anyone venture into the depths of the Hucha Sea?
He waved his attendants away, leaving only Consort Xian by his side. Carefully, he laid the blood-written letter on the table. “…He was always so timid, yet I insisted on forcing him into the military camp.”
Consort Xian said, “Your Majesty only wished for him to grow into a capable person. Besides, no one would have expected that, even with General Zheng overseeing things, such a mishap could occur.”
The emperor’s gaze grew sharp, and Consort Xian’s heart sank as she realized too late that she had misspoken. Their emperor, deeply martial in spirit, favored military generals over civil officials.
Her previous words, whether intentional or not, could be seen as casting blame on Zheng Qianye.
The emperor did not hold it against her but replied mercilessly, “Zheng Qianye is the commander-in-chief of the army, not my personal bodyguard. Losing my beloved son is my sorrow; General Zheng returning victorious is the nation’s fortune. General Zheng has defended the Western Frontier three times, his merits securing the dynasty, his name immortalized. When the army returns to the capital, I will personally welcome them.”
The decades-long entanglement between the Great Xu Dynasty and Fox Hu was like a thorn in his heart.
Fox Hu was like an unyielding weed, endlessly sprouting even after being cut down. Only by pulling it out by the roots could there be peace.
It wasn’t until becoming emperor that he understood the rarity of a once-in-a-century star among generals. In comparison, the annual fifty successful candidates in the imperial exams seemed far less precious.
The previous emperor favored civil officials over military generals. Veterans like Zheng Qianye had endured nearly twenty years of hardship at the frontier before the current emperor’s reign finally granted them the recognition they deserved.
Traveling along the trade route, Zheng Qianye’s group faced only one major drawback: the sparse populations of the Gobi Desert made it a haven for sand bandits. These bandits knew the deep desert far better than Zheng Qianye’s forces. Wishing to avoid unnecessary trouble and alerting Fox Hu, Zheng Qianye kept a low profile.
Between the Great Xu Dynasty and Fox Hu lay the natural barrier of the Hucha Sea. Yet, Fox Hu’s invasions grew increasingly aggressive, largely tied to the activities of these bandits.
Gao Yuexing, staying by Zheng Qianye’s side, often saw him strategizing deep into the night, his expression heavy. Their pace grew slower by the day.
By now, it had been over half a month since her last parting with Li Fuxiang.
That evening, as the group camped for rest, Gao Yuexing brewed a cup of medicinal tea over the fire and entered Zheng Qianye’s tent.
Zheng Qianye pressed a candlestick onto the map, using its dim light to study it. He glanced at Gao Yuexing, and for a moment, his emotions were overwhelming.
Sensitive to his unusual gaze, Gao Yuexing asked, “General Zheng? What’s the matter?”
Zheng Qianye averted his eyes and said, “In the blink of an eye, nearly twenty years have passed. If my daughter had entered the cycle of reincarnation, she would now be a few years older than you.”
Li Fuxiang was seventeen this year.
It had been seventeen years since Zheng Yungou’s death.
On this quiet night, Zheng Qianye found himself recalling the agony of a white-haired father burying his black-haired child. Comparing it, he said, “When my Yungou was your age, she was also with me at the Western Frontier, enduring the sandstorms. Deep into the night, she would thoughtfully bring me tea and pastries…”
As the daughter of a military family, she had ultimately perished amidst palace schemes. Zheng Qianye had long struggled to come to terms with her loss.
When young Li Fuxiang first appeared before him, it was only through those familiar brows and eyes that Zheng Qianye faintly felt—his daughter’s life continued in some way.
Pointing at the map, Zheng Qianye said to Gao Yuexing, “Do you see the royal court of Fox Hu here?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “I see it, but I don’t understand it.”
Outside, Zheng Qianye’s subordinates were restless tonight, constantly moving about.
Before entering the tent, Gao Yuexing noticed iron caltrops buried outside the camp. She knew that a storm was coming.
Zheng Qianye asked, “Are you afraid?”
Gao Yuexing shook her head and answered, “I’m following you.”
Zheng Qianye lovingly patted her head, turned around, folded the map, and closed his eyes to rest.
Their tents, set up on the flat expanse of sand, looked like small burial mounds from afar, more like silent targets waiting to be struck.
Most of their men had retreated, leaving Zheng Qianye seated steadily in the central tent. The candle burned to its last, making reluctant crackling sounds as it burst into small flowers of flame.
Gao Yuexing whispered, “The candle is almost burned out.”
Zheng Qianye didn’t open his eyes, only letting out a faint “Hmm.”
Gao Yuexing asked, “Should I refill the lamp?”
Zheng Qianye replied, “No need.”
As the candle finally extinguished, Zheng Qianye opened his eyes. In the darkness, his gaze was as sharp as a hawk ready to strike.
Gao Yuexing suddenly turned to look outside.
The sound of hoofbeats!
The ground beneath their feet trembled.
The sand bandits charged straight for the central tent.
In the moment when shouts of battle erupted, Zheng Qianye abruptly scooped her into his arms. Gao Yuexing closed her eyes and covered her ears.
The slaughter lasted until dawn. Zheng Qianye had his first encounter with the sand bandits, each side testing the other’s strength.
It was also Gao Yuexing’s first time facing the battlefield where lives were lost. Although none of their own people had died, the land beneath the fallen bandits, soaked with thick blood, pressed heavily on her heart.
What was terrifying, however, was that this was only the beginning.
Even though they were already close to Fox Hu’s borders, Zheng Qianye gave no orders to advance further. It seemed as though he had formed a vendetta with the sand bandits. On the edge of the Hucha Sea, Zheng Qianye and his troops engaged in relentless skirmishes with the bandits.
Often, Gao Yuexing would fall asleep in her tent at night, only to be jolted awake and find herself on horseback. Zheng Qianye, wielding a blade, would decapitate a bandit with one hand while pulling out two dried chestnuts from his coat with the other. Using two fingers, he cracked open the tough shells and placed the golden kernels into Gao Yuexing’s small hand.
They were hard, cold, but sweet.
For three whole months, Gao Yuexing survived on the lingering sweetness in her mouth until reinforcements arrived.
It was Zhan Ji.
He was one of the men who had followed Li Fuxiang deep into the Hucha Sea, now bringing many of Zheng Qianye’s former subordinates with him.
Gao Yuexing had never seen him before and didn’t know what he used to look like.
But from what Zheng Qianye said, he had grown thinner and haggard, almost unrecognizable.
Gao Yuexing thought to herself, if even he had become thin and worn out, Li Fuxiang must be in an even worse state.
Yet his eyes were bright, filled with unconcealable excitement and exhilaration.
He had military matters to report to Zheng Qianye—classified information. Zheng Qianye told her to go out and entertain herself.
It had been nearly half a year.
In that previous lifetime, Gao Yuexing had no knowledge of the loyal souls buried beneath the desolate sands of the Western Frontier, nor did she understand what those hundred-plus days and nights felt like for the young men who staked their lives on an uncertain outcome.
In the dazzling and alluring capital of Shengjing, she had only remembered one line recorded in blood and tears in the history books: In the eighteenth year of Jingle, on the sixth day of the seventh month, Prince Xiang pacified Fox Hu, leading three thousand troops to breach the royal city. Fox Hu submitted.
I’m about to see him soon.
A strong premonition surged in Gao Yuexing’s heart. She hadn’t seen the sunsets of the desert for many days now.
A crimson sun quietly hung on the horizon.
Redder than blood, gentle yet cruel.