When Caiyu woke, a splitting headache blurred the edges of her world. Her eyes slid back and forth through the dim room; something had happened, she was sure of it, but the memory refused to come.
Night had already come down. Lan Guifan quietly warmed the food by the stove, then went back to the little room to finish packing. The boy was sensible—he didn't ask many questions about the sudden move. After all, he always did what Brother A'li said.
Ah Ye lay on the floor, tail thumping as he settled in to digest.
Sheng Jiangli helped her to her feet and spoke plainly. “I found Prince Yan’s covert guards snooping near here. In case things change, I told Fan’er to pack. We leave tomorrow.”
Caiyu stiffened and looked around, anxious and oddly hopeful all at once. A bitter ache rose in her chest.
“Two years… would he still be looking for me?”
She forced the question out. He should have forgotten her by now—should be marrying the Princess of Nan’an, moving on.
Sheng ruffled the messy hair she’d slept on and smiled wryly. “You’re underestimating your place in his heart.”
“He remembered Shu’er for ten years,” he added. “Song Yinghuai is stubborn to the bone. He’ll remember you for a lifetime.”
Caiyu bowed her head, the old self-doubt gnawing at her. Had she misread it? Back then they’d loved fiercely, fought fiercely, and hurt each other beyond repair. She had believed, selfishly, that Song’s lingering feelings were nothing but unwillingness to let the affair die—an obstinate clinging. She had been cruel enough to give him the final choice, to end it so they could both start anew.
She pushed down the tangle of emotions that had plagued her for two years and asked, steadier now, “Where are we going this time?”
“Jiaodong—Jizhou,” he said.
Jizhou. The name shocked her like a blow. “Jizhou? That’s close to Yanjing. And… they say Prince Yan is at war with the Southern army.”
Even from this remote fishing village, rumors found their way to her. Since Sheng Jiangli and the others had started talking about the young emperor’s ascension, she’d had a feeling this war would come. An ambitious ruler never sleeps easy with threats at his doorstep; the new prince—Song Chengyuan’s son—was young, blood-hot, and heavily influenced by Lü Baiwei. He was a wolf in pup’s clothing, but he was growing teeth by the day.
Sheng watched her with an unreadable expression. “Is Shu’er worrying about meeting Prince Yan and having him cling to you… or are you secretly hoping to see him?”
Caiyu’s cheeks puffed out in irritation. “Brother A'li! Don’t be ridiculous. Who’s hoping? He’s nothing to me now—we’re done.”
“Really?” Sheng’s dark eyes pinned her, and for a heartbeat a shadow passed over them. It was as if he could see straight through her. Under that gaze, she felt small and unsettled. Then, as if proving something to herself, she jerked her chin up and said firmly, “Yes.”
Sheng watched her stubborn stubbornness and something in his chest loosen. He finally couldn’t keep it in.
“Shu’er,” he said softly, “we’ve known each other for thirteen years. We’ve shared misfortune and fortune, hardship and relief. Now we’re headed to Jiaodong…”
Caiyu interrupted, calling him gently, “Brother A'li.” Something in his tone hinted at secrets; the trip to Jizhou might not be as simple as he let on.
He took her hand. “Shu’er, as you said, Jizhou is close to Yanjing and the two armies could clash there. I don’t trust leaving you exposed, so…”
She stared, suddenly breathless.
“So—when we reach Jizhou, let’s get married.”
Outside, the stars skittered over the fishing village and turned the houses briefly silver. The tide murmured against the dark rocks like a lullaby; the world felt calm and safe.
Lan Guifan, holding a bundle of clothes, stopped at the threshold and hushed Ah Ye, who was about to slip inside. “Shh.”
The wolf paused and looked at Lan, puzzled. Then the boy’s face split into a grin. “Listen. My third sister is getting married. Let’s go back.”
As the tide slapped the black rocks, Lan turned and thought he had caught a familiar shadow slipping by. He rubbed his eyes. “Ah Ye, I think Sister Qing has come back.”
Ah Ye tossed him an expression of contempt and padded inside to sleep. Stupid humans, the wolf seemed to say—they were the last to know; he’d been smelling this for two years. If not for Qing giving him a chicken every day, he would’ve told them sooner.
Far off, along the eastern shores of the southern sea, the village slumbered. But under Yanjing, a storm unlike any before was rolling in.
Since Yanjing had sealed itself, the city had been awake through the nights. Soldiers moved like waves through the streets. In the Yan Prince’s mansion, in the hall of Lianyin, General Xiao Rencheng and the commanders of the Five Provinces’ forces were studying the defenses for the next day when a loud click sounded from a corner.
The wall trembled and slowly opened.
The generals drew their swords and assumed battle positions. Xiao Rencheng folded his arms behind his back and watched the wall part into a doorway wide enough for two.
“Don’t panic,” he said. “They’ll be our people.”
Anyone familiar with the Yan Prince’s secret passages had to be either Song Yinghuai himself or one of his close men. A rich, loud laugh echoed through the corridor. “As sharp as ever, General Xiao!”
Tan Xiong, Fang Kuan, and the others filed out of the passage and stepped into the light.
“Generals!” Xiao Rencheng brightened. “You’ve broken into Yan!”
He glanced around and then asked, puzzled, “Where’s General Zhu?”
Fang Kuan pinched the sword tip from the dazed Five Provinces commander and grinned. “Relax, brother. We’re all on the same side. I’ll go get a drink.”
Zhang Ce cut in. “We noticed you pulled the bulk of the Five Provinces’ forces into Yanjing. Who’s defending the people back home? And your delicate wife—”
“We left Old Zhu stationed in Lizhou, on the Qin-Yan route,” Xiao Rencheng said, reddening with embarrassment. “Three ten-thousand-strong battalions there to guard the pass—one man holding the gate against a thousand. I… I admit I got carried away with plans on paper and nearly forgot the obvious…thank you for covering for me.”
Tan Xiong slapped his shoulder and roared with sincerity. “What’s there to say? When the Prince ordered it, you threw yourself into it. That’s loyalty. You’ve held Yanjing for us for half a month. You’re like a second parent to the city.”
Xiao Rencheng was used to flattery, but Tan Xiong’s words tasted good. He exhaled and relaxed. “I’m glad you’re back. The Southern army has gathered two hundred thousand at Yanjing, and another two hundred thousand are expected in three days. I was worried we couldn’t hold the city.”
“We’ll hold it!” Ma Mo slammed down, boots thumping as he took his seat. “Tonight we strike back.”
The assembled commanders were stunned.
Tan Xiong said, “The Prince has reunited with Lady Xu. They’re behind the Southern lines. The Southern army doesn’t know we have a hundred and seventy thousand Yan troops inside the city. Tonight, with two thousand of the Xu family troops coordinating from inside, we’ll encircle the three hundred thousand of the Southern army.”
Song Yinghuai had returned.
The room surged with the energy of men who’d been given a shot of courage. “Wonderful! With the Prince back, this city will stand!” Several Five Provinces commanders’ faces lit up with excitement.
The name of the war god from Daye rippled through them like thunder—he hadn’t even shown himself and his sudden, brilliant maneuvers had already shaken their adversaries.
Xiao Rencheng slammed his hand down on the war map. “Good. Tonight, the Yan army counterattacks.”