Drunkenness truly was not something one could easily endure. The entire army had finished preparing to depart, yet their commander alone remained inside his tent, sleeping so deeply that he knew neither heaven nor earth and could not be awakened. Had Xuan Guang not come over with his eternally unchanged coffin-like expression, fearless as ever, and roused him from bed, Ning Xuan would undoubtedly have been charged with defying the imperial decree.
Ning Xuan shook his dizzy head. Every image before his eyes trailed a hazy double, and his mind felt like an egg with a broken yolk, reduced entirely to mush. His whole body seemed to have been run over by a truck, leaving him without the slightest strength. He did not even know how he had fallen asleep the previous night. His neck was stiff, and the stench of alcohol clung so heavily to him that the smell alone could probably intoxicate someone with a poor tolerance for liquor.
“Our great general has certainly risen early. Ah, no—I should address you as Lord Viscount now.” Watching Ning Xuan scramble to dress and wash, Feng Xuanzhen leaned against the entrance of the tent with one knee raised and an arm braced against the frame, looking utterly relaxed.
“You can stand there making sarcastic remarks because you’re not the one suffering.” Ning Xuan’s teeth itched with fury, but he could not spare the time to argue with him.
“I’ve been wronged. I’m clearly standing, so how could I be making remarks while sitting?” Feng Xuanzhen suppressed a laugh. His bright black eyes swept through the small tent several times, inside and out, from top to bottom, before he finally asked unwillingly, “You’re alone?”
Ning Xuan froze and looked at him in bewilderment. “Who else were you hoping to see?”
Feng Xuanzhen shrugged and waved a hand, leaving only his retreating back. “The army has already assembled. I merely came to deliver the message and ask the general when we are to depart.”
Seeing how refreshed and energetic Feng Xuanzhen appeared, Ning Xuan nearly ground his teeth to pieces. Had he known, he would never have drunk with him. Feng Xuanzhen had clearly known that Ning Xuan had a poor tolerance for alcohol, yet he had still brought an entire jar of aged Nü’er Hong. Even that could be overlooked, but once Ning Xuan became drunk, could Feng Xuanzhen not have tried to stop him? Ning Xuan did not even know whether he had gone wild from drink and made a spectacle of himself.
Heaven knew Feng Xuanzhen had tried to stop him at the time. Unfortunately, Ning Xuan’s determination could not have been restrained by ten oxen, and someone else had indulged him while sending Feng Xuanzhen away. Feng Xuanzhen had wanted to advise him and keep him under control, but he had been powerless to do either.
Fortunately, distinctions of rank remained firmly observed. As commander-in-chief, Ning Xuan rode at the very front, followed by his deputy commanders, Han Fei and Feng Xuanzhen, with everyone else arranged behind them according to military rank. As a captured enemy commander, Yelü Zhen should originally have been confined to a prison cart. Under Ning Xuan’s arrangements, however, he traveled with the army inside a warm and comfortable carriage. He wore neither shackles nor chains and was subjected to no other restraints. Supplied with fine food and drink, he looked less like a defeated prisoner than a wealthy young master out on an excursion. The carriage was merely surrounded by layers of guards, and every weapon and concealed weapon in his possession had been confiscated. Ning Xuan knew how difficult it would be for one unarmed man to fight ten thousand soldiers, and Yelü Zhen naturally understood as well.
Ning Xuan granted him basic respect and preferential treatment, while Yelü Zhen repaid him by behaving honestly and causing no trouble. Neither side created difficulties, and the journey remained peaceful.
Unfortunately, Feng Xuanzhen’s occasional glances nearly made Ning Xuan lose control and explode several times.
“Your Highness, could you stop looking me up and down with that disgusting gaze…?” The veins at Ning Xuan’s temple throbbed as his expression, hidden from everyone behind him, repeatedly challenged the limits of ferocity.
Who could possibly remain calm while suggestive glances drifted over from behind from time to time—especially when the meaning within them was so obvious and the places they lingered over were Ning Xuan’s waist and backside? In the past, Ning Xuan might have said he did not understand and merely found it strange before pretending nothing had happened. But now, either his powers of comprehension had advanced tremendously or Feng Xuanzhen was simply being far too blatant. Anyone who could still pretend not to notice such open flirting would have to be an idiot!
“Hm? Is my gaze really that disgusting?” Feng Xuanzhen displayed no awareness that he had been caught in the act and instead looked completely innocent. “Besides, I wasn’t looking randomly. I was merely curious.”
Ning Xuan knew that continuing this subject would accomplish nothing. Moreover, they were beneath the broad daylight and surrounded by countless witnesses. It would hardly be worthwhile if the authority he had struggled so hard to establish collapsed because of a few exchanged sentences.
He could not tell whether he genuinely felt unwell or whether it was merely a psychological reaction to the gaze behind him, laden with ulterior meaning. Either way, some indistinct place around his lower back felt deeply uncomfortable. Each jolt upon the horse left his waist sore and weak.
Upon a distant stretch of snowy wilderness, a silver-white fur cloak nearly blended into heaven and earth. A pale, desolate figure stood motionless, watching the army gradually recede and the silver-armored man at the head of the procession. Stray strands of black hair cast shadows over eyes as dark as night. Something shattered within his hand and scattered across the snow like fragments of starlight. His thin lips were tightly pressed together, leaving no one able to discern his joy or anger.
“Master…” A figure appeared soundlessly. In the blink of an eye, the snowy field that had held only one person contained another, his arrival as swift as lightning and unstoppable as a split bamboo.
“I wasn’t wrong… was I? I wasn’t wrong. Everything remains within my plans. Nothing has deviated, and there have been no accidents. He will act exactly as I intended… He will…” The voice was low as flowing water, rich and intoxicating as sweet wine, but at that moment it carried the frost of the wind and snow.
“Master, Young Master has already gone far away. If we do not return soon…”
Complex darkness flashed swiftly through his eyes, resembling struggle, pain, and a silent roar, yet in the end, everything returned to calm and deathly black stillness. “Xuan Yang, notify Xuan Shu and tell him to accelerate matters on his side. And Xuan Guang—he must ensure that absolutely nothing goes wrong. There can be no oversight whatsoever on his end. If he resists, there will be no need to keep him alive…”
“…Yes.”
On the thirteenth day of the twelfth lunar month in the fortieth year of Emperor Huawen’s reign, after two months of warfare, the General Who Pacifies the West led the soldiers and generals home in complete victory. On the twenty-eighth day of that same month, the army established camp five li outside the imperial capital, while the General Who Pacifies the West led the assembled commanders into the city.
Among the dynasty’s young generals, there was Prince Yu within the imperial family and Lord Ning beyond it—capable of bringing peace to the realm with the brush and securing the nation with the sword, winning the submission of all beneath heaven and the hearts of the people.
Because of their performance in the northwestern campaign, the people’s admiration and reverence for Ning Xuan and Feng Xuanzhen reached unparalleled heights. No one knew where the rumor had originated, but it was said that both generals were exceptionally handsome and dashing. Countless unmarried young ladies throughout the imperial capital immediately became eager to see them, and even the noble young masters could not resist wanting a glimpse of their true appearances. News had already spread that the victorious army would return that day, and the imperial capital was packed with people inside and outside the walls. Apart from the straight road deliberately kept open for the procession leading into the palace, every other place was surrounded so densely that not even water could pass through. Before the commanders had even entered the city, an enormous crowd had already knelt to show their respect.
Moreover, to display imperial commendation and unity between the military and the people, even Emperor Huawen, who had suffered from chronic illness for many years, personally left the palace to welcome them outside the city. Such extraordinary honor filled countless others with envy.
Before the city gates, civil and military officials, imperial relatives, and nobles had gathered in great numbers. A line of golden ceremonial regalia symbolizing the imperial family’s exalted status stretched across the area in magnificent splendor. A bright-red carpet extended all the way out from inside the city, displaying incomparable dignity and honor. The cold wind was piercing, yet the entire procession had stood before the gates since the sky was barely light, watching the vast army approach steadily from the distance. Weathered by hardship and battle, the soldiers nevertheless carried boundless majesty.
As they drew near, the three men at the head of the procession dismounted simultaneously, their movements perfectly synchronized and carrying a silent, solemn authority.
“This subject, Ning Xuan—”
“This son and subject, Feng Xuanzhen—”
“This subject, Han Fei—”
Each swept his cloak aside with his right hand and lowered his right knee to the ground, bowing his head and cupping his fists respectfully.
“Pays respects to Your Majesty. Long live Your Majesty for ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand upon ten thousand years.” The three voices merged into one.
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