“By the mandate of Heaven and the favor of fortune, the Emperor decrees: General Who Pacifies the West Ning Xuan has rendered outstanding service and repeatedly distinguished himself in battle. In recognition of his talent and achievements, We hereby confer upon him the title of First-Class Viscount. He is to escort the captured enemy commander and return to the imperial capital with the victorious army immediately. Respect this decree.”
“This subject thanks Your Majesty for your boundless grace.” Ning Xuan knelt, bowed respectfully, and received the imperial decree with gratitude.
“Congratulations, Great General—ah, no, I should address you as Lord Viscount now. Congratulations, Lord Viscount.” The palace attendant specially dispatched to deliver the decree folded it neatly and respectfully handed it to Ning Xuan, his face covered in a fawning smile.
“It is already late today. The weather is cold, the roads are slippery, and the winds and snow beyond the frontier are severe. My lord has endured several exhausting days of travel and should rest properly for the night. I have ordered wine and dishes prepared and delivered to my lord’s tent. Provided it is agreeable, how would departing early tomorrow morning sound?” One did not concern oneself with matters outside one’s position, but once Ning Xuan occupied that position, he could no longer avoid moving with the prevailing tide. He did not know when these layers of official pleasantries had begun rolling so smoothly from his tongue, without even the slightest stumble.
“Thank you for your consideration, Lord Viscount. Everything shall be arranged according to your wishes.” The palace attendant smiled so ingratiatingly that goose bumps nearly covered the ground. Heaven knew that several consecutive days of traveling without daring to slacken had almost left him unable to straighten his back. Had he not needed to maintain propriety before the decree—and had the hem of his robe not concealed them—his trembling legs would likely have provoked no end of laughter.
Ning Xuan had only just seen off the attendant who delivered the decree when Feng Xuanzhen, who had entered the tent at some unknown point, remarked coolly, “Tsk, tsk. A viscount. You skipped straight past Third-Class Baron and were immediately made a First-Class Viscount. At this rate, little Ning Xuan truly has limitless prospects. How long will it be before you take my position as an imperial prince as well?”
“Your Highness is truly overwhelming this lower official with such words. Those who are not direct members of the imperial clan can be granted no title higher than marquis. This lower official has never dared covet the dignity of an imperial prince. I ask that Your Highness say such things only here and let the matter end with that, lest we needlessly cause trouble for one another.”
“Tsk, tsk. I never expected Lord Viscount to understand propriety so well. You’re making this prince feel ashamed of himself.” With a sweep of his cloak, Feng Xuanzhen sat down on the low stool beside the table. “Now Imperial Father has personally issued a decree granting you a noble title. You have achieved magnificent military merit and possess boundless prospects, and tomorrow we return triumphantly to court. Before that, I want to ask Lord Viscount one question. Once you return, how will you conduct yourself? Where exactly will your allegiance lie?”
“Do you have so little confidence in me, or so little confidence in Feng Xuanyi? Or did you detect some hidden implication within a single imperial decree and come under some kind of pressure?” Ning Xuan asked in amusement. He pulled open the tent flap. The ink-dark sky had been stained red by the firelight, while fine flakes of white snow drifted down. “‘Do not laugh if I lie drunk upon the battlefield; since ancient times, how many who marched to war ever returned?’ Now, not only have we won, but we can return alive. Shouldn’t we drink together and celebrate? I have no desire to waste such a rare snowy night.”
He did not know when he had fallen in love with the desolation of the vast frontier, nor when he had become intoxicated by its barren, snowy nights. The biting wind seemed capable of freezing the blood within one’s bones, yet for some reason, that piercing cold was addictive and intoxicating.
Beside the blazing campfire, two striking, heroic figures faced one another over wine, though neither sang. There was only a tacit silence between them and the same relentless drinking.
Ning Xuan still remembered the day Bitong Pass fell. After he agreed to the enemy commander’s demand that not a single civilian be slaughtered and not one person be killed, thirty thousand enemy soldiers collectively left the city, discarded their armor and weapons, and surrendered without resistance. After several months and numerous battles of varying sizes, that was Ning Xuan’s first time seeing the opposing commander. He had assumed that even if they would not glare at each other with particular hatred upon meeting, neither would the other man greet him pleasantly. Unexpectedly, the moment Ning Xuan led the others closer, the enemy commander rushed toward him with an expression of shock and disbelief. Believing that the man intended some kind of attack, the guards swiftly stepped forward and restrained him. They captured him within moments—or rather, the man did not resist at all.
Held on either side by two guards, the man refused to submit and kneel. His proud brows permitted no humiliation, yet they could not conceal the shock in his eyes. Only when Ning Xuan and the others approached did he clearly see the man’s appearance. Ning Xuan did not associate every military man with crudeness, but at the very least, he had not expected someone so… delicate and handsome. His brows and eyes seemed painted, while his fair, dewy skin resembled a flower raised inside a greenhouse. It was impossible to connect him with years of exposure to the wind and rain or the bitter cold of the northern frontier.
Ning Xuan was not the only one shocked. Everyone nearby who saw the man was secretly astonished, and some with less self-control even released audible exclamations. Before Ning Xuan could examine him more carefully, however, the man spoke first and stunned everyone. “I’ve searched for you for so many years. Why are you here? You clearly know your own origins, so why are you still serving the Hua Dynasty and risking your life for it? You—”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” Ning Xuan looked completely puzzled, but alarm surged within him. He truly did not know what the man meant, but he did know that if he were allowed to utter several more ambiguous sentences like that, then forget about the military merit Ning Xuan had earned—it was uncertain whether he would even live to see the next day. Judging by the man’s reaction, the favorable interpretation would be that Ning Xuan had maintained a close personal relationship with an enemy commander. Even adding praise about placing righteousness above family and clearly separating public and private affairs might not be enough to gloss over that suspicious matter. Should someone skilled at seizing opportunities and stirring up trouble hear of it, the accusation of “colluding with the enemy” would guarantee Ning Xuan suffered dearly. Therefore, whether he understood or not, even if he truly knew this person, he would have to pretend otherwise before so many witnesses. Besides, Ning Xuan genuinely had no idea what was happening. How utterly innocent he was!
“You don’t understand?” The man looked suspicious and carefully examined Ning Xuan from head to toe several times before reluctantly asking, “May I ask the general’s name, so that at least I may know at whose hands I die?”
“Ning Xuan,” Ning Xuan replied clearly.
“Ning Xuan…” the man murmured. “So your surname is not Nalan. Then you probably aren’t the one. But…”
Whatever he might or might not be, the sentence “you probably aren’t the one” unquestionably allowed Ning Xuan to breathe a sigh of relief. It had spared him the heroic necessity of jumping into the Yellow River to prove his innocence.
“This one is Yelü Zhen. My people have always admired those who possess both courage and strategy. Now that I have been defeated by you, I submit wholeheartedly. According to the customs of my people, we ought to become sworn brothers and drink together in celebration, but that appears impossible now.” Yelü Zhen smiled bitterly. “In my next life, I will certainly fulfill that wish!”
His smile was calm yet unrestrained. Rather than inspiring dislike or aversion, when paired with his outstanding appearance, it gave him an air of carefree boldness.
Everything from that day remained vivid in Ning Xuan’s mind. He clearly remembered Yelü Zhen’s every movement, frown, and smile, especially his initial shock and astonishment and the disappointment and helplessness he had revealed at the end. Ning Xuan felt an inexplicable closeness and a formless concern for him, despite having met him only once…
His brows drew faintly together as he poured cup after cup of aged Nü’er Hong down his throat as though it were water. A drunken flush stained his fair cheeks. Some of the fine liquor spilled across his hand with his movements, leaving behind an icy chill. Snowflakes settled upon it, freezing his slender, pale fingertips until they turned bright red. A fine layer of calluses had formed there from holding a sword and practicing martial arts every day.
“What are you doing?” Feng Xuanzhen caught Ning Xuan’s arm and stopped him from raising another cup to his lips. The fine wine spilled onto the snow. Feng Xuanzhen frowned unhappily. “We return triumphantly to court tomorrow. Drinking can lead to mistakes. Are you trying to earn yourself a charge of defying the imperial decree?”
Ning Xuan’s dark eyes, faintly clouded by intoxication, gleamed as brightly as though they had been washed clean by rain. They held less restraint than usual and several more traces of wild, unbridled recklessness.
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