In the Moonlight

Arrows tore through the air with a sharp whistle, arriving in an instant.

Li Xuanzhen’s tall frame enveloped Li Yaoying as he held her and dodged. Several arrows grazed past his arm and embedded themselves deep into the sand.

Amidst the sharp, whistling sounds, iron arrows shot from unknown directions, their force full and relentless like shooting stars chasing the moon. In the distance, Northern Rong archers on horseback fell from their saddles one after another.

Embracing the trembling Yaoying, Li Xuanzhen remained oblivious to the clamor of battle behind him. His body was covered in wounds, as if sharp knives were twisting in his flesh, yet he was so overwhelmed with joy that he felt no pain.

Chang’an was not far from Liangzhou. If she had ever been afraid or regretted her choices and called out to him for help, he could have rescued her at any time. But she had been abducted by Haidu Aling to the Western Regions and ended up in the even more distant Royal Court, which had almost no contact with the Central Plains. He had crossed the Qilian Mountains, passed through the Yumen Gate, traversed the eight-hundred-li Moheyan Desert, escaped from Yi Province, and scaled the towering Tianshan Mountains. After searching for so long across the vast, seemingly endless desert, he had finally found her in this unfamiliar foreign land.

She was alive, taller, and sturdier. Her small face pressed against his chest, and the arms wrapped around his waist were resilient and strong.

Li Xuanzhen tightened his embrace, holding Yaoying firmly, terrified that this might be nothing more than a hallucination born of days of thirst, hunger, and agony. When he and Li Zhongqian had been trapped in a desperate situation, they had been tormented by mirages, rushing toward them frantically only to find nothing but endless yellow sand.

The arm around her shoulder tightened like an iron vise, making it hard for Yaoying to breathe. She lifted her head, a string of glistening tears sliding down her cheeks, but her eyes were filled with laughter, the tears unable to conceal her overflowing joy.

Li Xuanzhen’s face was caked with blood and dust, his features unrecognizable except for a pair of phoenix eyes.

He gazed at her, lowered his head, pressed his fingers against her neck, and continued to hold her close.

Yaoying caught the heavy scent of blood, and her consciousness gradually returned. The sounds of battle and arrows whistling through the air forced her to calm down from her overwhelming joy.

They were still on the battlefield and could not afford to let their guard down. The scenes from her dreams could reappear at any moment!

“Elder Brother, let’s retreat to a safe place first!”

Yaoying gently tried to free herself from Li Xuanzhen’s grasp.

Startled, Li Xuanzhen trembled and held her even tighter, refusing to let her move. His fingers pressed firmly against her neck, preventing her from looking up at him.

She hadn’t realized it yet. One more glance, and she would see that he was not Li Zhongqian.

“Elder Brother?”

Sensing the sudden intensity emanating from him, Yaoying called out softly. Her fingers felt something sticky and wet—he was covered in blood.

“Elder Brother, you’re injured. Please listen…”

Yaoying lifted her head.

Li Xuanzhen met her long, slender eyes.

As their gazes met, the smile on her face suddenly froze, and a flicker of doubt crossed her eyes.

That flicker of doubt snapped Li Xuanzhen back to reality. The pain from his wounds instantly became sharp and unbearable. He shuddered violently from the agony and collapsed onto the sand.

“Elder Brother!”

Yaoying caught him, calling out anxiously.

“Awei, come here!”

The guard responded loudly and rushed to their side. He took out gauze and medicine, cut open Li Xuanzhen’s tattered leather coat with scissors, examined his wounds, located the source of the heavy bleeding, and bandaged it to stop the blood."Brother, don't fall asleep, talk to me. I'm Bright Moon Slave, I'm right here..."

Yaoying's hands trembled slightly as she untied the waterskin from her waist, pouring water to dampen a cloth and moisten Li Xuanzhen's cracked lips. As the cloth brushed past his neck, wiping away the bloodstains, her movements suddenly paused.

She snapped out of her panic and studied Li Xuanzhen carefully.

Li Zhongqian had sharp features with a finger-length scar running from his chin to his neck - a souvenir from his battle against the Southern Chu general.

This man's gaze didn't resemble her brother's.

In the next moment, Yaoying continued pouring water, but her movements lost their previous tenderness. She brushed aside the disheveled hair from Li Xuanzhen's face and wiped away the blood covering half his features.

His handsome face gradually emerged - sword-like eyebrows, phoenix eyes, with an lingering gloom between his brows.

In that instant, all joy drained from Yaoying's eyes, leaving only emptiness behind.

Such dramatic swings of emotion, just like this.

She sat frozen, clutching the cloth, silent for a long while.

Li Xuanzhen knew she had recognized him and smiled bitterly inwardly.

Yaoying stared coldly at him. In her dream, she had clearly seen Li Zhongqian - why had it turned into Li Xuanzhen?

Almost identical scene, same attire, same pair of golden hammers... How could Li Xuanzhen be holding the twin hammers that never left Li Zhongqian's side?

A thought flashed through her mind. The color drained from Yaoying's face as her expression turned icy. With a swift motion, she pushed aside the guards, threw herself before Li Xuanzhen, drew the dagger hidden in her leather belt, and pressed its tip against his throat.

"How did my brother's golden hammers end up in your hands?"

Her voice trembled, her gaze falling upon his face devoid of any warmth.

"What have you done to him?"

Meeting Yaoying's cold, suspicious stare, Li Xuanzhen struggled to open his mouth but couldn't make a sound.

The way she looked at Li Zhongqian was filled with surprise, tenderness, admiration, trust, intimacy - joy so intense it nearly overflowed.

The way she looked at him held only coldness.

The difference was truly this vast.

So vast that for a moment, Li Xuanzhen's chest swelled with jealousy, resentment, and emotions he couldn't even name himself, truly wishing Li Zhongqian had never existed in this world.

Yaoying pressed harder, the dagger tight against his throat: "Li Xuanzhen, what have you done to my brother? How did you get his golden hammers!"

Li Xuanzhen met her gaze. "He's still alive..."

He broke into violent coughing, blood trickling from his lips, his body trembling uncontrollably, pupils dilating.

The guard paled, pulling out a bottle of heart-strengthening life-preserving elixir and stuffing it into Li Xuanzhen's mouth: "Princess, he has several major wounds deep enough to see bone! He's collapsing, near death! We must stop the bleeding quickly and get him back to camp!"

Yaoying frowned, withdrew the dagger, stood up, and signaled the guards to continue bandaging Li Xuanzhen's wounds.

Li Xuanzhen had nine lives - he always managed to survive desperate situations. He wouldn't die that easily.

The guards gathered around, recognizing Li Xuanzhen. They stared wide-eyed, rubbing their eyes in disbelief: "How could the Crown Prince appear here?"

Yaoying tucked the dagger back into her waist. "He must have come looking for Zhu Lvyun."

When they encountered Zhu Lvyun, she had guessed Li Xuanzhen would leave the Central Plains for her. His pursuit by Northern Rong soldiers was likely because his identity was exposed during his meeting with Zhu Lvyun.

The guards exchanged glances and asked: "Princess, should we save him or not?"Yaoying nodded, her tone calm: "Save him."

Li Xuanzhen was still useful. To reclaim the Hexi region, she must form an alliance with him. Moreover, he possessed Li Zhongqian’s twin hammers—perhaps he knew Li Zhongqian’s whereabouts.

Once she learned how he had obtained Li Zhongqian’s hammers, she would settle the score with him.

Yaoying organized her thoughts, fully regaining her composure, though disappointment lingered on her face.

She had truly believed the scene from her dream was repeating itself—that the rider galloping toward her was Li Zhongqian. Fearing he might be injured, she had rushed forward without clearly seeing his face in her panic.

Li Xuanzhen must have heard what she called out—why hadn’t he spoken?

If he had uttered a single word, she would have recognized his voice immediately.

A flag-bearing guard nearby scratched his head. "Why was the Crown Prince so concerned about the princess just now? And why did he hold onto her so tightly?"

When arrows had flown wildly in all directions, Li Xuanzhen had shielded Yaoying closely, evading the stray projectiles—they had all witnessed it.

Another guard snorted. "He must have spotted a familiar face while fleeing for his life and gotten overexcited! He clung to the princess, afraid she’d ignore his plea for rescue!"

Everyone found this reasoning convincing and nodded in agreement.

Dislike him as they might, they still exerted their utmost efforts to treat Li Xuanzhen’s injuries. They brought a horse, lifted him onto it, and retreated to a safe distance from the battlefield.

…

Meanwhile, Mobi Duo concluded the battle, leaving a contingent behind to clear the traces before withdrawing with the rescued Han Chinese.

Several Han survivors, having escaped certain death, tidied their appearance, tied back their disheveled long hair, and ascended the hill.

Two of the most severely wounded suddenly collapsed onto the sand, exhausted. The others helped them up, and the group trudged silently, step by step, toward Yaoying.

Yaoying waited by the hillside, stepping forward to meet them. Her gaze swept over these gravely injured Han men clad in Northern Rong cavalry attire, and a flicker of recognition stirred within her.

Beneath the desolate twilight, the Han men—battered, blood-soaked, yet resolute—supported one another as they approached her, then bowed with solemn reverence.

"Not turning back until Liangzhou is reached. Your Highness, we have fulfilled our mission!"

They lifted their heads, smiling at her with fervent, earnest eyes, bright and unclouded.

Memories surged before Yaoying’s eyes. Staring at the bloodstained young men, her heart swelled with emotion, pounding fiercely. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes grew moist.

The turmoil stirred by Li Xuanzhen vanished in an instant.

Yaoying dismounted and walked toward the Han men, bowing deeply in a full ceremonial salute.

She had once bid these very youths farewell, telling them: "One day, we shall surely meet again!"

Today, they reunited on these sandy slopes. Of those fearless young men, some had died, others lay wounded, their bones buried in foreign lands, unknown and unremembered. Only these few remained alive.

They smiled at her, just as they had when they departed.

When the youth are strong, the nation prospers.

One of the Han men carefully retrieved a scroll wrapped in yellow silk, cradling it in his hands as he knelt on one knee before Yaoying. "Your Highness, under orders, we broke through countless blockades to reach Liangzhou. There, we found the Wei dynasty garrison commander and, with the assistance of Zheng Jing and Du Sinan, presented the Ten-Thousand-Word Memorial and our king’s letter. The Wei emperor has replied."

The others knelt in unison, right fists pressed to their chests, their eyes blazing with fiery intensity.

Yaoying steadied herself, suppressing the shock in her heart, and accepted the letter.Li De had already unified the north and fully controlled Western Shu. At this critical moment when soothing the people's hearts and consolidating power were paramount, the various western prefectures once under the Central Plains dynasty pleaded for imperial troops, while Han descendants tearfully begged the royal army to reclaim their homeland. He promptly posted the lengthy petition and composed a passionate response—every word bleeding with emotion, each sentence stirring hearts.

Yet he made no promise to immediately dispatch forces to recover Hexi.

A flicker of shame crossed the young men’s faces.

"Princess, Zheng Jing told us the court hasn’t forgotten us, but they can’t send troops now..."

They hurried back to Gaochang with the news, not daring to linger in the Central Plains. Though officials there showed fervent enthusiasm, sharing their hatred for the enemy and yearning to reclaim lost lands, when it came to deployment timelines, they hemmed and hawed with deliberate delays. The youths could see clearly: the Wei Dynasty lacked sufficient military strength at present.

Disappointment was inevitable, but they could wait—wait for the Wei Dynasty to unify north and south, then troops would be sent to recover their homeland!

Yaoying wasn’t surprised by this response. Li De had always been cautious, unlikely to rashly commit elite Wei troops to the Hexi campaign. She never expected him to directly engage the Northern Rong—mere support and acknowledgment from the Central Plains would suffice to ease their path.

Now with Li Xuanzhen right under her watch, the Northern Rong preoccupied with fighting the Royal Court, and Liangzhou’s army poised for coordination, why pin all hopes solely on the court’s elites?

Only when they grew strong enough to threaten the Northern Rong would Li De commit his forces.

But by then, this force would have expanded beyond his command, leaving him no choice but cooperation, not control.

Tears glistened in Yaoying’s eyes as she gazed at the young men before her.

Her guards closed in, kneeling at her feet like the youths.

Royal Court soldiers kept their distance, watching astride their horses from afar.

Bathed in twilight atop the hill, Yaoying smiled.

"You are Gaochang’s bravest sons. In Shazhou, Guazhou, countless more like you stand tall—you are Hexi’s hope for restoration."

"Yang Qian is rallying volunteer forces, uniting clans loyal to Wei across the regions. Our ranks swell by the day."

"Without Wei’s troops, we’ll take the battlefield ourselves."

"Without provisions, we’ll procure them ourselves."

"This army shall be called the Western Army! We’ll unite all tribes yearning to return east, reclaiming our homeland with our own hands!"

A gale swept through, whipping Yaoying’s robes into fluttering waves. Behind her, banners bearing her insignia unfurled proudly against the raging wind.

The youths watched her, exhaustion transforming into blazing determination, their blood boiling with renewed fervor—Why shouldn’t men take up arms to reclaim these fifty strategic passes?

They would fulfill their ancestors’ legacy and return to their motherland!

...

The wind roared, painting the dusk in majestic hues.

Nearby, a contingent halted behind a dune. The man on horseback lowered his bow and iron arrows, silently watching Yaoying poised between azure skies and yellow sands.

Beside him, Bi Suo observed the distant Li Xuanzhen and murmured, "I’ve never seen Princess Wenzhao so overcome... She must dearly miss her brother and long for her homeland."In the afternoon, Tanmoroqie returned alone to the camp and held a private discussion with Bi Suo. Suddenly, urgent news arrived: Northern Rong soldiers had been spotted nearby. Concerned about Mobi Duo and Yaoying, the two men feared something might have gone wrong. They led a troop out to meet them and intercept the Northern Rong forces.

As they approached, they heard the sounds of battle. Waving flags to signal they were allies, they slowly drew closer and happened to witness Yaoying rushing into a man’s embrace, the two holding each other tightly.

Bi Suo’s green eyes widened in shock, nearly popping out of his head. He instinctively glanced at Tanmoroqie to gauge his reaction.

Tanmoroqie, his face covered with a sand-proof scarf, calmly drew his bow and shot several arrows, bringing down the Northern Rong cavalry.

Only after Mobi Duo and his men had slain all the Northern Rong soldiers did he finally relax his bowstring.

Bi Suo couldn’t decipher the expression on his face.

Shortly after, a soldier came to report: “General, it seems Princess Wenzhao has found her elder brother!”

Bi Suo’s emotions were tangled—partly relieved, partly disappointed—his mind a muddled mess.

Tanmoroqie remained silent throughout.

After sighing a few times, Bi Suo tentatively asked, “They’re heading back to the camp. Should we go over?”

“No need. Let’s return directly to camp.”

Tanmoroqie withdrew his gaze, turned his horse, and rode away.

He had seen her lose composure before, but only in her dreams—when she mistook him for Li Zhongqian, tightly clutching his hand, nestling affectionately against his palm, acting coquettishly with him.

But none of that compared to seeing her rush down the sand dune with her own eyes, throwing herself desperately into her brother’s arms.

Only in front of Li Zhongqian could she truly relax, like a child.

She had someone she trusted more, someone closer to her.

All that had happened before was like an illusion, a bubble, a shadow—like dew, like lightning.

She had come from thousands of miles away, crossing countless mountains and rivers, traversing a vast distance.

Now, she was going back.

The wind whipped at Tanmoroqie’s robes. He reached for the rosary on his wrist, only to find it empty.

…

The two groups descended the sand dune one after another and met face to face.

Mobi Duo immediately rode forward to exchange quiet words with Tanmoroqie and Bi Suo.

Yaoying handed Li Xuanzhen over to her guards for care and instructed them to retrieve the pair of golden drum hammers. Spotting Tanmoroqie, she was startled and urged her horse forward, wanting to approach. Seeing they were in discussion, she decided it wasn’t appropriate to interrupt and turned her horse away.

Back at the camp, Bi Suo and the others continued to the main tent for discussions.

Yaoying summoned the army physicians to treat Li Xuanzhen and the others.

One physician pointed at Li Xuanzhen and said, “His injuries are too severe, and the wounds are prone to infection. He must rest in a separate tent.”

A soldier hesitated, “All the tents are full…”

Frowning, Yaoying said, “Let him stay in my tent.”

Yuanjue’s eyes widened in surprise.

Yaoying explained softly, “His status is unusual. Keeping him in my tent will make it easier for the Regent to meet and speak with him when he returns.”

Yuanjue suddenly understood and helped move the severely injured Li Xuanzhen into Yaoying’s felt tent.

Yaoying left her guards to attend to him and went to meet the noble youths from Gaochang, asking for detailed accounts of their journey and experiences in the Central Plains—how had they ended up with Li Xuanzhen?

One of the youths, named Yang Nianxiang, was a clansman of Yang Qian. Though severely injured, he remained spirited. Lying on a blanket, he recounted the whole story from beginning to end."We left Gaochang, passing through checkpoints under the pretext of pursuing Haidu Aling. The princess’s plan helped us overcome many obstacles. However, once we reached Northern Rong, Lady Yina’s permits became useless. We disguised ourselves as herdsmen, trying to slip out of the towns, but Northern Rong’s lockdown was too strict. We lost too many people and had no choice but to hide in the city."

"Later, when chaos broke out in Northern Rong, we encountered a group of monks. We pretended to be their monk soldiers and seized the chance to escape. In the end, we were still tracked down by Northern Rong soldiers and nearly died under their blades. At the critical moment, a Liangzhou army unit rescued us... It turned out Crown Prince Li Xuanzhen had gone to Yi Province. The Liangzhou army didn’t know when he would return, so they sent patrols near the border every few days to provide support. We were lucky to run into them."

Later, when they delivered the letter, the governor of Liangzhou was deeply moved, especially when he learned that Li Yaoying was still alive.

Soon after, Zheng Jing, Du Sinan, the Crown Princess, and others, upon receiving the news, sent envoys to Liangzhou to escort Yang Nianxiang and his companions to the capital for an audience. Li De specifically arranged for them to present a ten-thousand-word petition during the grand court assembly, moving all civil and military officials to tears.

Yang Nianxiang was eager to return to Gaochang. After receiving Li De’s verbal assurance, he took the letter and set off immediately. The journey back was equally perilous. They passed through numerous checkpoints and managed to contact Yang Qian, who learned from Xie Qing that Ale would lead his tribe to pledge allegiance to Yaoying and relayed this to them via a secret letter.

Faced with a critical situation, they were hesitating whether to catch up with Ale’s tribe or return to Gaochang when they unfortunately encountered Northern Rong soldiers and were forcibly conscripted to transport supplies for them.

They attempted to escape the Northern Rong camp but had not yet devised a thorough plan when their identities were accidentally exposed. They fled in panic. At that time, Li Xuanzhen was also being pursued by Northern Rong soldiers. The group supported each other, fleeing for their lives, and eventually discovered traces of Ale’s tribe. They hurried to join them, with Northern Rong cavalry hot on their heels. It was only then that everyone realized Li Xuanzhen’s extraordinary status.

After listening to Yang Nianxiang’s account, Yaoying asked softly, "How many brothers did we lose?"

Yang Nianxiang’s eyes reddened as he solemnly reported a number.

One by one, brothers fell beside him, yet they pressed on eastward without retreating until their mission was accomplished. Those brothers would never return.

Yaoying poured him a bowl of hot tea, then looked around, making eye contact with everyone in the tent.

"They will not have died in vain, nor will they be forgotten. Their names will be engraved in our hearts forever. Their stories will be recorded in books, and their heroic deeds will be passed down through generations."

"We must not betray their sacrifice. We must fulfill their wishes. Only by reclaiming our homeland and returning to the Wei Dynasty can we honor their spirits and ensure their names are remembered by all."

Tears welled in everyone’s eyes as they voiced their agreement.

Yaoying did not leave immediately. Instead, she fetched paper and brush, meticulously recording the names and origins of the fallen young men.

What she had said earlier was meant to comfort them and ease Yang Nianxiang’s guilt—lofty words, but the truth was, ordinary heroes are easily forgotten.

She would remember them.

She had already recorded the names of every guard who had escorted her during her marriage alliance and died silently.

They were all her soldiers, her retinue.

...

When Yaoying returned to her tent, Li Xuanzhen was still unconscious.She bent over the desk to write several letters and handled some documents. Before she knew it, midnight had arrived, with the howling wind outside and the sound of gales beating against flags echoing through the camp.

Late at night, Yuanjue brought some wound medicine and said, "The Regent asked me to deliver this. It works better than what the military doctors provide."

Yaoying asked, "Where is the Regent?"

"He is busy."

"When the Regent is finished with his work, please ask him to come over without fail."

Yuanjue acknowledged the request and relayed the message.

Half an hour later, footsteps sounded outside the tent. A hand clad in black gloves lifted the felt curtain, and Yaoying immediately set down her brush, rising to greet him: "Has the General returned alone?"

Tanmoroqie nodded in affirmation, his gaze falling upon Li Xuanzhen, who lay wrapped in a blanket on her usual sleeping spot. His face was pale, still unconscious.

Yaoying whispered, "General, this is the Crown Prince of Wei, Li Xuanzhen, my half-brother."

Tanmoroqie remained silent for a long while.

The candlelight flickered in the tent.

After a prolonged silence, he asked, "He is not Li Zhongqian?"

"No," Yaoying shook her head. "General, he might know my brother's whereabouts, and as the Crown Prince of Wei, I need to discuss with him about attacking the Northern Rong and reclaiming lost territories once he wakes. Therefore, I must keep him in my tent for care. The Northern Rong's territories span east and west, making them vulnerable on both fronts. He will surely be willing to ally with the Royal Court to strike their eastern lands while their main forces are concentrated here."

She lifted her eyes, "However, this might disturb your rest."

Tanmoroqie found his woolen blanket in the corner, moved to another spot, still using the long table as a partition, leaving the other end empty.

He said, "It is of no consequence."

Yaoying smiled at him, though her eyes held no mirth, burdened with worries.

Tanmoroqie asked, "And the Princess?"

Yaoying patted the empty space beside the desk, saying, "I will sleep here. Spreading out the felt blanket will suffice."

As she spoke, she laid out the felt blanket, lay down, wrapped herself tightly, and gazed at the tent ceiling without another word.

Tanmoroqie slightly furrowed his brows, sat quietly in the candlelight for a moment, then suddenly rose and went out.

"I have matters to attend. Do not wait for me, Princess. Rest early."

Yaoying uttered an "Oh" but asked no further.

...

The night wind was chilly.

Tanmoroqie stood outside the tent, looking up at the star-studded night sky, a passage from the Scriptures flashing through his mind:

"All delightful desires are like saltwater—the more one indulges, the more greed increases."

What is greed?

Princess Manda was beautiful and alluring, her dance graceful, yet he had never been moved by passion, let alone desire.

Beauty is but decaying bones; comeliness and ugliness are merely superficial.

But greed is not merely desire.

He knew Li Yaoying would leave when the year was up—a fleeting cloud, an illusory bubble—and he should let it flow naturally.

Today, he realized she could leave at any time, without waiting for the year to end.

Henceforth, she would never again set foot in the Royal Court, thousands of miles away.

She would confide in others, treat them with fervent sincerity.

Tanmoroqie slowly closed his eyes.

He recalled the day of the prayer ceremony, when Li Yaoying pressed her palms together and bowed to him. The brilliant light before the Buddha hall spilled over her, her gaze devout, her eyes smiling.

At that moment, an improper thought suddenly arose.

If she had entered the Buddhist path, becoming one of his countless followers... he wished her bright eyes would only look upon him.

She should believe in him alone.

He had developed greed.