Chasing Jade (Zhu Yu)

The sun sank in the west, casting a golden-red hue over the tattered banners slanting across the battlefield, while corpses strewn everywhere painted a scene of boundless desolation.

The approaching Iron Cavalry drove like a steel blade into the war-torn land, sending the surrendered rebel soldiers into further panic. They huddled together like lambs awaiting slaughter.

As the distance closed, Fan Changyu got a clearer look at the lone rider charging at the forefront. His face was as cold as jade, his sharp eyes burning like stars, fixed on her like a wolf hunting on the plains as he whipped his horse toward her.

A shiver ran down Changyu’s spine, and she muttered to Xie Wu, “The closer he gets, the more he looks like him.”

Xie Wu looked ready to cry. Seeing Xie Zheng’s murderous expression, he blurted out, “Run, miss!”

Changyu’s helmet had long fallen off, and her loosely tied hair, disheveled after her fierce battle with the rebel general, fluttered wildly. She stood out starkly among the grimy soldiers.

Assuming Xie Wu’s panic was due to her disguise as a man to fight in Yan Zheng’s place being exposed, her heart lurched. Without time to ponder why the rider resembled Yan Zheng so much, she bolted into the crowd, hoping to hide.

But two legs were no match for four. The towering black warhorse surged forward like a gust of wind. Before Changyu could even grab a helmet from the ground, she was hoisted onto the horse’s back.

Dangling upside down, her stomach pressed against the saddle, she barely caught her breath before the horse wheeled around. The scenery blurred past her as they galloped away.

A voice from the Iron Cavalry boomed, “The rebel commander Shi Yue has been slain by the Marquis at the gorge! Here is his head as proof! The army triumphs!”

The exhausted Yanzhou Army erupted into thunderous cheers.

Seized atop the horse, Changyu instinctively flailed, but her strength was spent from battle. The iron grip on her waist rendered her struggles futile.

Amid her thrashing, she caught a whiff of bitter herbs mingled with the metallic scent of blood. Her movements slowed as she strained to look up at the rider’s frosty, handsome face. Hesitantly, she called, “Yan Zheng?”

Xie Zheng glanced down but remained silent, his gaze fixed ahead. Suddenly, he spurred the horse harder, shouting, “Hyah!”

Though his voice was cold and furious, Changyu recognized it unmistakably as Yan Zheng’s.

She stopped struggling, hanging limp like a stunned goose. Her eyes, reflecting the sunset and forest, brimmed with confusion and bewilderment.

Yan Zheng wasn’t a common soldier—he was a general.

Why had he lied to her?

Xie Zheng’s steed had far outpaced his retinue, leaving only the green mountains and flowing streams flanking the road.

Noticing Changyu’s stillness, Xie Zheng tugged the reins, slowing the horse. As he reached to pull her upright, she suddenly twisted away from his grasp. Like a leopard, she sprang up, pinning him against the saddle. Her round, almond-shaped eyes blazed with anger as she hissed, “You lied to me!”The coldness on Xie Zheng's face faltered slightly as he said, "I can explain."

The sky grew darker. Fan Changyu looked at the man she had pinned against the horse's back by his collar, her initial fury giving way to an inexplicable sense of hurt.

She had feared his severe injuries would kill him on the battlefield, which was why she had schemed to take his place in secret. Yet it seemed he had deceived her all along.

If his injuries were truly that grave, how could he have lifted her onto the horse with just one hand?

Changyu pressed her lips tightly together, anger and that unnameable ache twisting inside her as she demanded, "Explain why you're a general? Or explain why you lied about your injuries not healing?"

The force of her grip reopened the split wound on her palm, fresh blood seeping out. Xie Zheng noticed the warm, sticky sensation before he could answer her question, his expression shifting abruptly. "You're hurt?"

As he spoke, one hand intercepted hers that was clutching his collar, attempting to rise and examine her injury, but Changyu exerted more strength to keep him pinned.

Xie Zheng's face grew even colder. His heartbeat still hadn't steadied—whether from the frantic gallop or some lingering dread—his eyes barely containing a simmering anger as he said, "I can explain everything you asked about. First, let me take you back to treat your wound."

Her rage unabated, Changyu spat out icily, "I don't need your concern."

With no one holding the reins, the warhorse had slowed to a stop after trotting some distance. As soon as she released her grip on Xie Zheng and moved to dismount, the man behind her suddenly seized her waist and crushed her against his chest.

Changyu had been sitting face-to-face with him since mounting the horse earlier. Now, her waist was gripped so tightly it nearly snapped, her jaw clamped painfully in his grasp. His eyes burned with something feral as he snarled, "Don't need my concern? Then you shouldn't have drugged me to go to the battlefield! Do you even know what a battlefield is? A place where lives mean nothing! Have you forgotten everything I told you when you raided the grain depot last time?"

He seemed more furious than ever, veins bulging at his temples, his gaze so vicious it looked like he wanted to devour her alive. Yet the hand clutching her waist held on desperately, knuckles whitening, as if clinging to something precious he had nearly lost.

Changyu, already aggrieved by his deception, felt her eyes sting at his outburst. Biting back the ache, she retorted through gritted teeth, "I was afraid you'd die there!"

"Even if I died there, you still shouldn't have gone!"

The moment those words roared out, Xie Zheng saw the tears pooling in her eyes—stubbornly unshed—and felt as though a branding iron had seared his chest. That throbbing muscle contracted in pain, their breaths trembling in unison.

His expression remained rigid, but when he lowered his gaze, his voice softened. "If I died, you should have taken your sister and left the army. Found a new home—open a butcher shop, build a pigsty, live well. Marry some refined scholar you fancy someday, have children..."

When the tear she had been holding back finally fell onto his hand, Xie Zheng watched as the girl before him began weeping silently, large drops rolling down her cheeks. The crimson in his eyes deepened, and suddenly he seized her jaw and kissed her with desperate ferocity.

"Boom—"A thunderclap split the sky, a brilliant bolt of lightning tearing through the heavy darkness of the night. After half a month of clear weather, a sudden spring rainstorm finally arrived in the dead of night.

Fat raindrops pelted down as Fan Changyu pushed against the man with all her might, but he wouldn’t budge. Rainwater streamed down her eyelids, blurring the lines between tears and raindrops on her face. She struck him several times with her elbows, hearing his muffled grunts, yet the hand cradling the back of her head didn’t loosen in the slightest. Instead, his kiss grew even more desperate, as if he had thrown all caution to the wind.

Lightning flashed across the mountains, illuminating the world for a brief moment before plunging it back into endless darkness.

When it came to recklessness, Fan Changyu was no match for him.

Her chest was a tangle of unfamiliar emotions, so overwhelming she could barely even cry properly.

When it ended, he pressed his forehead against hers, his blood-crusted hand gently smoothing her rain-soaked hair. His voice was soft, his eyes pitch-black in the darkness. “As long as I live, don’t even think about bearing children for anyone else.”

By now, Fan Changyu had cried herself out, the storm of emotions inside her vented through her sobs. She lifted her gaze to Xie Zheng and, without hesitation, punched him squarely in the face.

She hadn’t held back. The force of the blow sent Xie Zheng tumbling off his horse.

Without so much as a backward glance, Fan Changyu yanked the reins and shouted, “Hyah!”

Her warhorse surged forward, kicking up a spray of mud.

Xie Zheng lay sprawled in the rain, one hand pressed to his left eye where she’d struck him. He sucked in a sharp breath before finally lowering his hand. Then, staring up at the stormy night sky, he burst into laughter—

Fan Changyu galloped away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. The touch stung—no doubt they were swollen.

The cold rain lashed against her face, yet her cheeks burned faintly. She scrubbed her lips harder, as if trying to erase something.

Ahead on the main road, she encountered a group of personal guards searching for Xie Zheng, Xie Wu among them.

Spotting her, he quickly urged his horse forward. “Miss Fan!”

Noticing she was riding Xie Zheng’s steed, he glanced behind her but saw no sign of his lord. “Where is the Marquis?”

Fan Changyu had only known Xie Zheng as a general. Hearing Xie Wu refer to him as “Marquis” gave her pause, but she quickly scowled. “He fell and died!”

Without waiting for their reaction, she spurred her horse onward.

Xie Wu hastily directed a few men. “You lot, escort the lady back. The rest of you, come with me to find the Marquis!”

The guards split into two groups—one trailing Fan Changyu at a careful distance, the other rushing off in search of Xie Zheng.

When they finally spotted Xie Zheng on the road, Xie Wu and the others dismounted and hurried over. “Marquis!”

Pine-resin torches burned steadily despite the rain, and the guards froze at the sight of the bruise around Xie Zheng’s eye.

Had the lady struck the Marquis?

Xie Wu, recalling how he too had deceived Fan Changyu—and the gruesome fate of the rebel general she’d hammered to death—swallowed hard.

Would she come after him next?

Oblivious to his foolish worries, Xie Zheng asked, “Where is she?”

There was no need to clarify who “she” was.

Xie Wu snapped back to attention. “Xie Jiu and the others are escorting the lady back.”

Xie Zheng said nothing more. He mounted the horse Xie Wu brought over and ordered, “Back to camp.”