Tanmoroqie returned to the tent, where candle shadows flickered. At the other end of the long table, Yaoying remained motionless as if asleep.
He did not sleep but sat in meditation. After a while, he sensed a lingering gaze fixed upon him in the dim candlelight and looked up.
Yaoying had unknowingly sat up, her hair disheveled, hugging her knees with her arms while resting her head on them. She stared at him blankly, tears glistening in her eyes.
The candlelight illuminated her pale face. At this moment, she was not the radiant Princess Wenzhao from the daytime but a fragile, sorrowful young woman.
Tanmoroqie was momentarily stunned, recalling the absent-minded smile on Yaoying’s face when he returned to the tent.
She was troubled.
Yaoying noticed his gaze, snapped back to reality, wiped the corner of her eye, her nose tinged red.
"Did you have a nightmare?"
Tanmoroqie asked, his voice softer than he had intended.
Yaoying was about to lie down and sleep again, but hearing his gentle inquiry, she paused and murmured, "Mm. Today, I heard Yang Nianxiang and the others say that my elder brother’s martial arts are ruined. He can no longer wield those golden hammers... He came looking for me before his injuries had healed... I don’t know where he is now... I just dreamed of him... he..."
Li Xuanzhen, skilled in martial arts and protected by his personal guards, had been severely injured. Yang Nianxiang and the others had narrowly escaped death. It was evident how strict the Northern Rong’s blockade was. Li Zhongqian, gravely wounded and unable to speak the Hu language, had risked crossing the blockade to find her. How much suffering must he have endured?
No matter the hardship, as long as he hadn’t found her, Li Zhongqian would never turn back. That was how stubborn he was.
Since childhood, he had never cared about Li De’s oppression and suspicion, but he couldn’t bear to see her suffer... He had even publicly attempted to assassinate Li De, tearing apart the facade of father-son and ruler-subject relations. He cared for nothing anymore, not even his own life.
Yaoying’s voice trembled lightly, and she couldn’t continue. In the flickering candlelight, her eyes shimmered with tears, as if they were about to overflow.
The Scriptures Tanmoroqie had been silently reciting grew faint, replaced by the sound of teardrops falling.
Drop by drop, ripples spread.
She should smile more often. When she smiled, she was radiant, like the blissful world described in the Scriptures—where golden sands spread beneath one’s feet, trees revealed Buddha’s realms, exquisite heavenly flowers drifted down, and all things shone with light.
Tanmoroqie looked at Yaoying and said softly, "Daytime thoughts bring nighttime dreams. It was just a dream. The princess and her brother share a deep bond. He will surely overcome adversity and remain safe."
His voice was cool and devoid of emotion, yet it inexplicably carried a soothing power.
Yaoying murmured softly in agreement, smiled, and shook her head, the tears in her eyes receding.
"The general is right. It was just a dream. My elder brother will surely be safe. I will find him and reunite with him!"
She let out a long sigh and spoke with determination.
Silence fell between them. Yaoying lay down again, her breathing gradually evening out. Tanmoroqie closed his eyes and resumed his meditation.
Soon, a rustling sound came from beside the long table.
Tanmoroqie opened his eyes.
Yaoying, supporting herself with her hands, crawled carefully around the long table to his side, grabbed a felt blanket, and wrapped herself in it.
Tanmoroqie looked down at her.
She had moved close to him, leaving only half a foot of distance between them. Her blanket covered the hem of his robe.His gaze was cold as frost, carrying no reproach yet exuding an authoritative pressure that made Yaoying feel somewhat abashed. She picked up a scroll and said softly, "General, I truly cannot sleep—when I doze off, dreams haunt me... May I sit closer? I wish to read some documents before resting."
Tanmoroqie remained silent but gave a slight nod with his chin before closing his eyes.
Yaoying smiled faintly, lowering her head to peruse the scroll.
Silence settled in the tent. One sat in meditative contemplation, the other wrapped in a felt blanket reading documents—quiet except for the rustling of paper.
The tent was bathed in hazy candlelight.
As Tanmoroqie silently recited Scriptures, finishing a chapter of "The Karmic Consciousness of Jambudvīpa Beings," he suddenly felt a weight gently press against his arm.
Startled, he opened his eyes.
The candle still flickered, casting interlacing shadows. Yaoying had leaned against him facedown, eyes closed, long lashes trembling, deep in slumber—the open scroll still clutched in her hand.
Tanmoroqie did not move.
With a soft thud, the scroll slipped from Yaoying’s grasp and fell to the ground. Stirred by the sound, she murmured indistinctly, reached up to clutch Tanmoroqie’s sleeve, nuzzled against his arm, adjusted into a comfortable position, and her breathing grew steady and deep.
Tanmoroqie remained motionless, not pushing her away, his jade-green eyes fixed on the steadily burning candle on the desk.
After an unknowable length of time, a wisp of smoke rose from the candlestick as the flame extinguished.
Yaoying shifted, sliding downward.
Without a word, Tanmoroqie lifted his arm to catch her.
Yaoying tumbled into his embrace, finding an even cozier position as she unconsciously pressed closer, her body resting against his.
A faint, lingering fragrance emanated from her.
Tanmoroqie’s gaze lowered. He pulled up the slipped felt blanket, drawing it up to her chin and covering her exposed shoulders.
As his fingers brushed her cheek, they paused.
Tear-like glimmers seemed to sparkle near her eyelashes.
His fingers curled slightly, gradually moving toward her eyes as if to wipe away those traces of tears.
A faint crackle came from the charcoal embers. Her expression was peaceful, brows relaxed, sleeping soundly.
Tanmoroqie withdrew his hand and resumed chanting Scriptures.
...
When Li Xuanzhen awoke, it was already dawn. Pale light filtered into the felt tent, illuminating the rough outlines of its furnishings.
Stacked large trunks, a glowing charcoal brazier, hanging camp stools, bows, quivers, several animal pelts, a long desk piled with parchment scrolls, a small table cluttered with bowls and a teapot, a plate holding a stack of uneaten hard naan...
Li Xuanzhen scanned the surroundings, his gaze finally settling on two figures beside the long desk. He jolted fully awake.
The man was tall and lean, his martial attire accentuating his muscular frame. Even seated, he exuded a composed authority. A woman with loose, flowing hair lay pillowed on his lap, fast asleep—cheeks flushed, body curled tightly against him. The man sat perfectly still, looking down at the sleeping woman with serene detachment.
Li Xuanzhen’s breath quickened.
The man lifted his gaze. Their eyes met—one cool and detached, the other dark and brooding—clashing like blades, scattering frosty tension.
Li Xuanzhen did not recognize this scar-faced man, but he knew the woman lying against him—since when had Li Yaoying ever been this intimate with any man besides Li Zhongqian?She rode through the long street, clad in bright garments and flowing skirts, with admiring young men chasing after her on horseback. She never mocked or belittled them, nor did she play hard to get or toy with their affections. Yet, she never reciprocated any of their feelings.
This same woman, in order to survive, had cast aside her reserve and dignity, openly entangling a monk in public... Every time Li Xuanzhen heard the Northern Rong people recount the scandalous tales of Princess Wenzhao and the Buddha Prince in lewd tones, speculating about what methods she might have used to seduce him, it felt like a knife twisting in his chest. He had to muster all his strength to suppress the urge to tear those people's mouths apart.
He dared not dwell on what Yaoying had sacrificed to stay alive, only repeating to himself that he and Li Zhongqian would rescue her and help her forget this ordeal.
Now, watching Yaoying sleeping soundly against a man with complete trust, the overwhelming joy of finding her and knowing she was safe was overshadowed by a brutal reality: all of this was caused by Li De and himself.
He had delivered her to the chieftain of the Yelu Tribe, made her the object of Haidu Aling's desire, caused her to wander thousands of miles away, and endure untold hardships.
Li Xuanzhen trembled violently, coughing so hard it seemed as if he would cough up his heart, liver, and lungs.
Perhaps only this could alleviate the pain that permeated his entire being.
The violent coughing woke the sleeping Yaoying. She sat up, dazed for a few breaths, then her pupils dilated, and she quickly scrambled to her feet, rushing to Li Xuanzhen's side.
"Li Xuanzhen, where is my elder brother? How did his golden hammer end up in your hands?"
Her hair was disheveled, with sleep marks still visible on her cheeks. Her gaze was cold, disdainful, wary, and tense—tense for Li Zhongqian.
Li Xuanzhen, wincing in pain, said softly, "Don't worry, he's still alive..."
"Where is he?"
The pain in his body intensified, causing Li Xuanzhen to tremble uncontrollably. "He might be at the Northern Rong's main tent..."
A chill ran down Yaoying's spine. "The Northern Rong's main tent? How could he end up there?!"
Li Xuanzhen took a labored breath, enduring the agony. "The Northern Rong blocked all news... We didn't know... didn't know where you were... thought you were still with the Northern Rong... We found Yi Province... Later, we planned to go to the Royal Court, but something happened along the way..."
The two brothers had infiltrated the Northern Rong army, expecting to reach the Royal Court smoothly. However, Wahan Khan suddenly changed the route, and the procession halted. Slaves were sent to serve the nobles in the main tent.
During this time, Li Xuanzhen encountered a few familiar faces who had secretly infiltrated the Northern Rong—personal guards sent by Li De to persuade him to return to the Central Plains.
Li Xuanzhen firmly sent them away, but those guards discovered Li Zhongqian and attempted to kill him. The next day, their identities were exposed, and they leaked the news of Li Zhongqian's presence in the Northern Rong, leading to both Li Xuanzhen and Li Zhongqian being hunted by the Northern Rong.
Fortunately, Haidu Aling was absent at the time, so his followers remained inactive. The pursuers were Wahan Khan's men.
"We fled all the way to the Northern Rong's main tent and encountered a few Han Chinese—they were spies from Yang Qian's rebel army. I heard that Haidu Aling had returned, so I entrusted Li Zhongqian to them, asking them to hide him in a safe place until the situation calmed down... I used Li Zhongqian's golden hammer to divert the pursuers... Later, I ran into Yang Nianxiang..."The pursuers were far too numerous. He had narrowly escaped death several times and was grateful he hadn’t brought Li Zhongqian along—otherwise, neither of them would have made it out alive. Not long ago, he encountered Yang Nianxiang and his companions, who were also being hunted by the Northern Rong while carrying a secret letter. As fellow Han people in desperate straits, they joined forces to flee together. Gradually, Li Xuanzhen learned of Yang Nianxiang’s identity—that they had returned from the Central Plains and were on their way to the Ale tribe to see Li Yaoying. Overjoyed, he traveled with them.
Li Xuanzhen recounted the events of the past year in fragments, his tone sincere.
Yet Yaoying listened with a deepening frown.
To her, Li Xuanzhen’s account sounded utterly unbelievable.
From the very first sentence, she couldn’t make sense of it.
Why would Li Zhongqian travel to Yi Province with Li Xuanzhen?
And why would Li Xuanzhen risk his own safety to draw away the pursuers for Li Zhongqian’s sake?
Hadn’t he abandoned his position as Crown Prince and left the Central Plains for Zhu Lvyun? Why hadn’t he gone straight to her instead of traveling all the way with Li Zhongqian? And after finding Zhu Lvyun, why had he followed Li Zhongqian to the Royal Court?
She had heard every word of Li Xuanzhen’s story clearly, but she didn’t believe a single sentence.
She studied Li Xuanzhen, wondering if his severe injuries and fever had addled his mind. "Why would you help my brother?"
Li Xuanzhen smiled bitterly, his phoenix-like eyes fixed intently on her, his voice hoarse. "For you, A Yue."
The moment these words were spoken, the tent fell into a brief silence.
Yaoying’s brow furrowed.
Li Xuanzhen’s face was etched with bitterness. "A Yue, you don’t believe me?"
Yaoying remained silent for a long time before curling her lips into a faint smile. "Your Highness, if you were in my place, would you believe it?"
He had always sought Li Zhongqian’s death, even tacitly allowing Wei Ming to train assassins for that purpose. How could he possibly risk his life to protect Li Zhongqian?
Li Xuanzhen trembled with pain, his lips quivering. "A Yue, it’s true that I’ve tried to harm Li Zhongqian many times… but I’ve never lied to you… If Li Zhongqian’s identity were exposed, the Northern Rong would surely capture him to threaten you. That’s why I had to protect him."
Yaoying said nothing.
It was true that Li Xuanzhen was not one to deceive her with lies. He was brooding, inscrutable, and unpredictable, and he had harmed Li Zhongqian right before her eyes on multiple occasions without hesitation. Yet he would never go to such lengths to fabricate such an absurd falsehood.
He disdained such tactics.
"A Yue…"
"Don’t call me that. A Yue died long ago."
Yaoying cut him off sharply.
Li Xuanzhen was drenched in sweat, his body shaking uncontrollably, his teeth chattering. "Fine… I won’t call you that… Don’t worry, Li Zhongqian is safe. The Northern Rong’s main tent is behind us. After I drew the pursuers away, he and the spies took a detour to Gaochang and then to the Royal Court. That route is safer… He might have already reached Gaochang by now…"
He stared blankly at Yaoying.
"A Yue, don’t be afraid. You won’t have to suffer anymore… I’ll take you home…"
Yaoying’s expression remained impassive as she tried to untangle the chaos in her mind and determine which parts of Li Xuanzhen’s story were most credible.
Had Li Zhongqian truly escaped danger?
Each of his statements sounded plausible on its own, but together, they seemed like utter nonsense.
If by some chance he wasn’t lying, she needed to write to Yang Qian and Yuchi Damo immediately and ask them to send troops to assist Li Zhongqian.
Her expression shifted uncertainly.
Li Xuanzhen’s breathing grew increasingly ragged. Suddenly, he sat up and gripped her wrist tightly.
"Believe me…"Before Yaoying could react, a gloved hand reached over from beside her. With a light tap of two fingers, Li Xuanzhen lost his strength, released his grip, and fell back onto the rug.
His phoenix-like eyes widened as he stared at Tanmoroqie, who had appeared beside Yaoying without notice.
"You are from the Royal Court... Tell your Buddha Prince that I know where the main forces of the Northern Rong are... My Great Wei can dispatch troops to attack the Northern Rong..."
Ignoring his reopened wounds, he struggled to sit up once more, locking eyes with Tanmoroqie.
"The condition is... the Royal Court must agree to immediately release Princess Wenzhao and allow her to return home."
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