Fan Changyu spent three full days thoroughly mastering the techniques He Jingyuan had taught her.
Yet without anyone to spar with, she couldn’t gauge how much she had improved.
Counting the days, she would be able to return home the day after tomorrow. She planned to exchange a few good moves with Xie Zheng then.
The last time she returned to camp, Xie Zheng had mentioned he was in Chongzhou on official business. From the sound of it, he would be staying there for a while.
So, aside from training with the main army, Fan Changyu also squeezed in time to practice her carving.
After ruining countless pieces of wood, she finally managed to carve a rough but recognizable little figurine.
Unexpectedly, when training ended that day, Guo Baihu announced, "Starting today, the camp is sealed. No one is permitted to leave, and daily training hours will be doubled."
The soldiers below murmured among themselves, while Fan Changyu and another squad leader exchanged bewildered glances.
"What’s all this noise?"
Guo Baihu’s deep roar silenced the hushed discussions as his fierce gaze swept over them.
In a gruff voice, he barked, "The two squad leaders stay. The rest of you, return to your barracks and await orders!"
The soldiers dispersed in small groups, their whispers spreading once more.
Fan Changyu and the other squad leader remained, waiting for Guo Baihu’s instructions.
He looked at them and said, "Your chance to earn glory has come. The main force is short on numbers, so we’ll be deployed to the right flank behind the vanguard to support the main army’s advance. Many soldiers serve for a decade and only get to clean up the battlefield at the rear. This time, we’ve lucked out. Fortune favors the bold—I’ve never been a coward in my life, so don’t you dare lead a bunch of spineless soldiers and embarrass me!"
Only after Fan Changyu and the other squad leader repeatedly promised to intensify training did Guo Baihu dismiss them.
The war in Chongzhou had been at a stalemate for a long time. Fan Changyu hadn’t expected the two armies to engage in a major clash so soon. As she walked back, lost in thought, Guo Baihu suddenly called her back. Half his face was hidden behind a thick beard as he rasped, "I know you’ve got connections higher up. You’re skilled too. But if you’re in danger on the battlefield, no one in my unit will risk their life to save you. If you want to pull strings and get transferred elsewhere, now’s your chance."
Fan Changyu merely glanced at him and walked away without a word.
When she returned to the barracks, the soldiers huddled together, still discussing the implications of Guo Baihu’s words.
Seeing Fan Changyu, one of them asked, "Squad Leader Fan, are we going to war?"
To maintain an air of authority, Fan Changyu usually spoke little in front of others and rarely showed expression.
Strangely enough, this tactic worked well. She hardly ever lost her temper, yet the soldiers beneath her seemed to fear her.
Of course, it might have something to do with the fact that on her first day leading them, she had shattered Guo Baihu’s broadsword with a pair of iron hammers.
After she responded with a stern "Mm," the soldiers fell silent for a long moment, their faces a mix of unease about the unknown and sorrow at the thought that they might never see their parents, wives, or children again.
Fan Changyu knew that even soldiers feared war. After all, before donning their uniforms, they had been nothing more than laborers scraping by or hardworking farmers.She didn't offer any inspiring words, simply saying, "In the coming days, everyone should practice their sword and spear techniques diligently. We may not seek wealth and honor, but we must have the skills to protect ourselves if we want to survive the battlefield and return home to see our wives, children, and elderly mothers."
After a pause, she added, "I managed to survive First Line Gorge with just a butcher's knife because the rebels I killed were fewer than the pigs I'd slaughtered before."
She thought hard for a moment before finally recalling the phrase, declaring with all seriousness: "Practice makes perfect—that applies everywhere. You're afraid of the battlefield, but the lowly soldiers in the rebel army are too. When everyone's afraid, it comes down to who can swing their blade or thrust their spear faster when fear strikes."
The soldiers burst into laughter, and the previously tense atmosphere dissipated considerably.
With their training directly tied to their survival, and Fan Changyu's "practice makes perfect" remark fresh in their minds, the several dozen men under her command trained with exceptional diligence.
Xie Wu even generously taught them several lethal combat techniques for one-strike kills.
On the eve of their departure, one of the soldiers sought out Fan Changyu and handed over all the military pay he'd earned since enlisting, asking her to keep it safe.
He said, "Squad leader, my mother only has me as her son. I'm from Huangping County in Jizhou. If I die, please take this silver to her."
After saying this, he ran off. Fan Changyu stared at the few pieces of broken silver in her palm for a long time before finally putting them away.
She used to fear the battlefield too, but when she thought of her parents' great vengeance, of Yu Qianqian trapped in Chongzhou City, and of Xie Zheng, her fear faded.
Military merit was the best path she could think of to achieve everything she needed to do on her own.
But now, she had another conviction—she wanted to lead every soldier under her command off the battlefield alive.
With a few hours left before their march, Fan Changyu lay awake, unable to sleep. She reached under her pillow and pulled out the half-carved wooden figurine she was working on.
The figurine already had hair carved out. She turned the blade and slowly carved out the eyes.
Since it was a round-headed, chubby doll, she made the eyes larger.
Recalling Xie Zheng's appearance in her mind, she angled the outer corners of the eyes upward as she finished, instantly giving the silly-looking doll an arrogant, nose-in-the-air demeanor.
Fan Changyu couldn't help but smile. She poked the doll's chubby cheeks and murmured, "Looks just like him."
Where was he now, she wondered?
The moon reached its zenith, startling crows in the forest.
Zhao Xun was forced to his knees, surrounded by corpses—all his guards.
His face was deathly pale, his forehead drenched in cold sweat. His pupils reflected the blood dripping from the sword tip of the man illuminated by torchlight. Trembling, he stammered, "M-Marquis..."
Xie Zheng flicked the sticky blood from his blade and glanced sideways. "Even a cunning rabbit only has three burrows. Young Master Zhao has so many hideouts, you've truly made this Marquis search hard for you."
A breeze rustled through the treetops, carrying his voice through the flickering torchlight—cool and faintly indifferent.
Several days earlier, after Fan Changyu returned to camp, Xie Zheng had gone to see Grand Tutor Tao. He had intended to discuss matters concerning the imperial grandson and the Li family, but Grand Tutor Tao mentioned urgent business in the capital and asked him to thoroughly investigate the connection between the imperial eldest grandson and Prince of Changxin before his return.Xie Zheng agreed and had initially intended to seek out He Jingyuan to obtain answers regarding Fan Changyu's origins.
However, He Jingyuan happened to be personally overseeing the inventory of military provisions and equipment delivered by the court alongside Li Huaian. Since Xie Zheng was ostensibly stationed in Kangcheng at the time, appearing abruptly in Chongzhou would only give the Li faction grounds to accuse him of abandoning his post. Thus, he proceeded directly to investigate the matter concerning the imperial eldest grandson.
The person most directly connected to the imperial eldest grandson was Zhao Xun, so Xie Zheng naturally began his inquiries with him.
Since the Zhao family was involved in business, their information network was extensive. Before Chongzhou was besieged, Zhao Xun had already left the city.
The Zhao family's business interests were vast, with numerous strongholds, and it took Xie Zheng some effort to finally corner him.
When Zhao Xun saw Xie Zheng arrive in person, he knew things had taken a dire turn. Struggling to maintain composure, he replied, "My lord jests. If there is any way this humble Zhao can be of service to you, I would gladly lay down my life..."
Xie Zheng regarded him with a faint, mocking smile. "When Young Master Zhao sought me out in Qingping County at the beginning of the year, you said the same thing."
Zhao Xun's face stiffened.
Xie Zheng rested his bloodstained sword on Zhao Xun's shoulder. Swallowing hard, Zhao Xun rasped, "My lord, please calm your anger. This lowly one's wretched life is also in another's hands. Many things... are beyond my control."
Xie Zheng applied slight pressure, lowering the blade. Zhao Xun dared not utter another word, sweat beading on his forehead like pearls, his body rigid as iron.
The bloodied sword slid across the fabric of Zhao Xun's robe, leaving behind a stark crimson streak.
Though the blade never touched his skin, Zhao Xun could already feel its icy edge and the sticky warmth of blood soaking into the cloth. The metallic scent assaulted his senses, draining all color from his face. His entire body trembled violently, as if shaken by a sieve.
Xie Zheng sheathed his sword and handed it to a personal guard behind him, casually remarking, "Don’t mind me—just borrowing Young Master Zhao’s robe to wipe off the blood."
Zhao Xun collapsed, utterly defeated. "Please, my lord... spare me."
A thin smile played on Xie Zheng's lips. "When I was in dire straits, Young Master Zhao procured two hundred thousand dan of grain for me. By that measure, we are old acquaintances. I’ll ask you a few questions. Answer truthfully, and I won’t make things difficult for you."
Mentioning the grain purchase only made Zhao Xun turn even paler.
Back then, he had bought the grain because he saw that Wei Yan intended to destroy Xie Zheng, while Grand Tutor Li merely watched from the sidelines, waiting for the conflict to escalate so he could impeach Wei Yan. Zhao Xun had acted preemptively to stockpile provisions for Jinzhou.
But he had deliberately left traces for He Jingyuan to discover, ensuring He Jingyuan knew Xie Zheng was behind the purchase. His original plan had been to pit Xie Zheng and He Jingyuan against each other—one having turned against Wei Yan, the other still loyal. Yet He Jingyuan had taken no action, leading to Wei Xuan’s forced grain requisition, Sui Yuanqing’s impersonation of requisition officers to incite violence, and the ensuing chaos.
Zhao Xun kowtowed heavily, his forehead pressed to the ground, voice quivering. "My lord, please quell your anger. At the time, I did advise His Highness, but my voice carried no weight—I couldn’t sway his decisions. What happened... was never my intention."
Xie Zheng asked coldly, "You claim to serve the imperial eldest grandson. How can I be sure the one pulling your strings is truly him?"Zhao Xun's eyes flickered with a hint of struggle before he finally answered, "My mother was the chief maid serving the Crown Princess. Later, when she reached the age, she was released from the palace—ostensibly to marry my father, but in truth, she was managing the Crown Princess's external assets in secret."
Xie Zheng had long ordered the investigation of the records concerning the East Palace fire years ago and knew that the Crown Princess did indeed have a chief maid who was released from the palace at the age of twenty-five.
The defeat at Jinzhou and the East Palace fire occurred one after the other. With the death of Chengde Crown Prince, the Crown Princess and the imperial grandson also met tragic fates. Anyone with eyes could see these two events were undoubtedly connected.
Behind the East Palace fire might lie the truth of the disastrous defeat at Jinzhou.
One of Xie Zheng's hands, clasped behind his back, unconsciously tightened, his voice cold and deep. "Didn’t the Crown Princess and the imperial grandson both perish in the East Palace fire?"
Zhao Xun replied, "The East Palace fire was set by the Crown Princess herself, to secure a slim chance of survival for the imperial grandson."
Xie Zheng's brow furrowed sharply. "Who wanted the imperial grandson dead?"
Zhao Xun gave a bitter smile. "I truly don’t know. My mother only received a letter written by the Crown Princess before her death, detailing the imperial grandson’s whereabouts—after the fire. But the letter made no mention of who sought to harm the East Palace."
Xie Zheng's gaze turned icy, his expression mocking. "So, Young Master Zhao has spun a tale to deceive this Marquis?"
Zhao Xun hurriedly said, "I wouldn’t dare. If the Marquis doubts me, there are the Crown Princess’s handwritten letter and tokens as proof."
Xie Zheng’s phoenix eyes were dark and unreadable in the firelight as he asked, "The imperial grandson is now the eldest son of Prince Changxin?"
Having extracted so much information, coupled with Zhao Xun’s close ties to Changxin Prince Manor and Changning’s earlier mention of Yu Bao’er and her son being held there, everything pointed to one clear answer. Xie Zheng’s final question was posed with absolute certainty.
Zhao Xun dared not conceal the truth and nodded.
Xie Zheng narrowed his long, narrow eyes.
Everything fell into place. Prince Changxin could only rebel under the banner of removing Wei Yan and purging the court of corrupt officials, never daring to invoke the imperial grandson’s legitimacy—because Prince Changxin had no idea his own son had been switched.
The imperial grandson, too, dared not reveal himself.
After all, if Prince Changxin could outright rebel, discovering his son had been supplanted all these years would likely leave no room for the imperial grandson’s survival.
Xie Zheng asked, "Was Sui Yuanqing’s appearance in Qingping County at the beginning of the year also the imperial grandson’s doing?"
Sweat dripped from Zhao Xun’s eyelids as he answered, "Yes."
Through Zhao Xun, the imperial grandson learned of Xie Zheng’s presence in Qingping County and orchestrated Sui Yuanqing’s visit, intending to use Xie Zheng’s hand to eliminate him.
At that time, Chongzhou had yet to show signs of defeat. If Prince Changxin could seize Jizhou while the Xie Family Army was tied down by the Northern Jue and press southward, even storming the capital to force the emperor’s abdication was not impossible.
But Prince Changxin had named Sui Yuanqing as his heir. Even if they conquered the realm, Sui Yuanqing would inherit the throne.
Thus, the imperial grandson needed Sui Yuanqing dead.
Now that Prince Changxin was clearly losing, the imperial grandson realized storming the capital to reclaim the throne was no longer viable and had begun courting the Li family’s favor.
Xie Zheng sneered coldly, "So this is the legacy of Chengde Crown Prince’s bloodline?"Zhao Xun gave a bitter smile. "When His Highness was young, in order to replace the eldest son of Prince Changxin, half his face was severely burned, leaving him with chronic illnesses. Over the years, his temper has grown increasingly erratic. Though I am merely a merchant reeking of copper, I still understand right from wrong. I have long secretly admired a peerless hero like the Marquis. I also know that if His Highness were to ascend the throne one day, the people would surely suffer."
He seemed to struggle internally before finally voicing his risky thoughts: "His Highness already has an heir. The Marquis must have seen the female proprietor of the Overflowing Fragrance Pavilion in Qingping County—she was His Highness's concubine who fled. Her child is the imperial great-grandson. The state of the world today is clear: imperial authority wanes, factional strife persists, and the people endure hardship. The Marquis surpasses even Wei Yan of old. If the Marquis were willing to follow Wei Yan's example and support the imperial great-grandson's ascension, this humble one would gladly serve as the Marquis's most loyal hound!"
Xie Zheng showed not the slightest flicker of interest in his proposal. The faint upward curve of his lips carried a hint of mockery as he said, "You would betray your master to serve me. How can I be sure you won't turn and serve another just as easily?"
From ancient times to the present, turncoats have always been despised.
Zhao Xun, well aware of this, laid all his cards on the table: "I only seek a path to survival for myself and my mother. Ever since the imperial great-grandson was found, His Highness has grown increasingly paranoid. He even sent Shadow Guards to monitor us, fearing we might switch allegiance to support the great-grandson. His suspicions grow by the day, and I fear he may one day move against us."
After a pause, he added, "From the moment I first saw the Marquis, I recognized you as a towering figure of integrity. That is why I dare speak such bold words before you."
Xie Zheng ignored his flattery, his dark lashes half-lowered as he pondered the current situation.
The pine-resin torches crackled, their sound unusually distinct in the wind-swept night.
Xie Zheng asked, "Where are the imperial great-grandson and his mother now?"
Zhao Xun answered with difficulty, "They remain in Chongzhou City, along with my mother."
Effectively held as hostages to ensure his loyalty while carrying out tasks elsewhere.
Hearing this, Xie Zheng frowned slightly.
The imperial eldest grandson was now collaborating with the Li faction. To help them secure military merits in Chongzhou, He Jingyuan would first need to be removed.
The capital and Chongzhou were separated by thousands of miles. The impeachment accusations against He Jingyuan at court had not yet reached Xie Zheng's ears.
He asked, "What leverage do you have against He Jingyuan?"
Fan Changyu had spent the entire night carving wooden dolls and finally completed both the heads and bodies.
They were ugly at first glance, but after staring at them long enough, they seemed oddly endearing.
She was quite satisfied with her first creations.
While washing up, Xie Wu somehow procured a breastplate mirror for her to wear inside her uniform.
After glancing at its size, Fan Changyu decided it would be safer to continue wearing the two steel plates she had brought from Jizhou when setting out to find Changning.
When Xie Wu learned she intended to strap steel plates to both front and back, he was utterly dumbfounded.
Fan Changyu assumed his shock stemmed from never having seen someone as death-fearing as herself. But adhering to the principle that survival came first, she resolutely strapped them on anyway.
Generals wore breastplate mirrors because their armor already protected other vital areas—the heart was merely the last line of defense.The soldier's uniform she was wearing probably couldn't even block a single strike—when it came down to it, she'd have to rely on steel plates to save her life.
That palm-sized heart protector, which Xie Wu found inconvenient and thought hindered his agility, Fan Changyu secretly gave to the soldier who had entrusted her with his silver for safekeeping.
When the soldier took the heart protector, he looked at Fan Changyu with teary eyes as if she were his savior, making her feel extremely awkward.
When Guo Baihu was counting the troops, he noticed Fan Changyu hadn't left. His expression was complicated—whether it was fear of trouble or something else, it was hard to tell.
He roared, "On the battlefield, killing one is breaking even, killing two is profit! Those who come back alive, I'll throw you a victory feast!"
Fan Changyu joined the surrounding soldiers in shouting "Yes!" at the top of their lungs.
Fear, valor, and concern—all seemed to be vented in that single shout.
Unlike the last time she went into battle, this time Fan Changyu and her comrades weren't positioned so far back, nor were they reinforcements arriving midway. They could clearly see the formations of both armies before the clash.
The dark masses resembled two ant colonies facing off. From such a distance, all they could see were the red tassels tied to the rebels' raised halberds, forming a continuous crimson line.
When the horns sounded from both sides, the vanguard troops of each army charged forward with roars, colliding almost instantly as if a dull thud had echoed across the field.
Fan Changyu thought the bravest soldiers in the army must be those in the Vanguard Battalion.
After all, those at the back followed the ones in front, while those at the front charged straight into the enemy's blades and spears.
To her surprise and relief, the few dozen soldiers under her command stuck close to her without fail. Wherever she fought, they immediately rushed to her side.
Fan Changyu couldn't tell whether they were trying to protect her or seeking her protection.
But their formation was undoubtedly like a sharp awl—with Fan Changyu as the tip, there was no place she couldn't pierce through. Xie Wu stayed close, never more than three steps behind her.
The Horse-Cutting Sword in Fan Changyu's hands became a blur as she advanced. At first, she could still see the Vanguard Battalion, but soon, her vision was filled with nothing but enemies.
Remembering their role was to support the vanguard, she grew anxious when she lost sight of them. While continuing to push forward, she asked Xie Wu, "Do you see the Vanguard Battalion's banner?"
The vanguard was supposed to break through the rebel ranks, while they were meant to squeeze through the gaps the vanguard created, allowing the infantry behind to widen the breach and divide the enemy forces.
If they got cut off anywhere and were surrounded by rebels, they'd be the ones getting slaughtered—a near-certain death.
Xie Wu, his face covered in blood, slashed horizontally at an oncoming rebel and said in frustration, "The Vanguard Battalion's already scattered—now we are the vanguard!"
Fan Changyu let out a confused "Huh?" Using the reach of her Horse-Cutting Sword, she forced back an attacking soldier and glanced behind her. Only then did she realize the troops following her had grown from a few dozen to a massive crowd.
Guo Baihu wasn't far behind, leaning on his longsword and panting heavily. He cursed, "You idiot, charging ahead like you're rushing to your grave—you turned my right flank into the damn vanguard!"Xie Wu ignored Guo Baihu, wiped the blood from his face, and said to Fan Changyu, "I'll go retrieve the vanguard flag. The soldiers behind can't see the banner and don't know which direction to charge."
On the battlefield, the worst mistake is to break formation and let the enemy divide and conquer.
Fan Changyu kicked one man flying and shouted, "Where's the flag?"
Xie Wu, skilled in qinggong, leaped several steps forward by stepping on the rebels' heads and pointed in a direction for Fan Changyu. Changyu then advanced like a sharp blade, cutting through the enemy ranks toward that spot.
The commanders observing from the heights watched with grim expressions as the vanguard's goose formation was scattered, seemingly foreseeing defeat in this first battle. Unexpectedly, a new spearhead suddenly emerged from the right flank protecting the vanguard's charge—sharp as a bee's stinger—piercing relentlessly toward the rebel army's core.
At first, the commanders exchanged bewildered glances. But when this newly formed spearhead joined forces with the scattered remnants of the vanguard, hoisted the vanguard's banner, and drove the rebels into retreat, their expressions turned peculiar.
One commander remarked, "I've heard of rearguards turning into vanguards, but this is the first time I've seen a right flank take on the vanguard's role. To stabilize the offensive and defensive situation without even needing to reform the formation—the commander must be a seasoned veteran, sharp enough to grasp the entire battlefield."
Another added, "That right flank was hastily assembled from General Tang's new recruits. Truly, his command is full of talent."
Tang Peiyi forced a stiff smile in response, his eyes fixed intently on the battlefield below, straining to identify the commander. But the distance was too great—he nearly went cross-eyed without catching a clear glimpse. He racked his brain but couldn't recall having such a capable officer under his command.
Only He Jingyuan remained silent, gazing down at the battlefield.
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