The night gradually faded as a team of seventeen or eighteen cavalrymen galloped out, tearing through the last veil of darkness as the pale light of dawn spread across the land.
The leader extinguished the torch in his hand.
He shouted, "There's a teahouse ahead—not just tea but food too, and a Tea Beauty who makes delicious steamed buns. Let's rest and regroup there."
A chorus of cheers rose from the soldiers behind him. At these words, their weariness began to melt away, and the atmosphere grew lively.
"Master Zhong, it's been over a decade since you last visited the capital, hasn't it? Is that place still there?" someone called out. "Don't get our hopes up for nothing!"
Zhong Changrong glanced back at the young man and laughed heartily. "The world changes, yet often stays the same. Even if the teahouse is gone, we won't die of thirst! What's there to fear? We'll just keep moving."
"You're the one who got our hopes up!" "Master Zhong, you'll have to treat us when we get there!" the soldiers clamored.
These were all troops he had trained himself, familiar enough to jest without restraint. Zhong Changrong took no offense.
He raised his horsewhip. "Come on, if any of you can overtake me, I'll treat you all to a feast at the finest tavern in the capital, with drinks on me!"
As his words faded, wild shouts erupted behind him. Hooves thundered as the once-weary soldiers burst forth like a flock of sheep released from their pen, charging ahead in high spirits.
Zhong Changrong laughed loudly, yelling, "You little rascals!" as he spurred his horse to chase after them.
Morning light bathed the earth, and steam rose from a large pot of boiling water, shrouding the tea stall in an ethereal mist.
"Soldiers, your tea," an elderly woman called out in a raspy voice, carrying two teapots with both hands.
Seeing her frail, trembling figure, the soldiers hurriedly stood and rushed to take them from her. "A Po, we can manage ourselves."
The old woman chuckled, handing over the teapots. "Wait here, I'll go cook some noodles for you."
As she shuffled away unsteadily, the soldiers turned their eyes to Zhong Changrong.
"Master Zhong, is this the Beauty you mentioned?"
"Master Zhong, your taste is... unique."
"Don't say that, everyone—even a Beauty grows old someday."
The soldiers snickered softly, but Zhong Changrong shot them a stern look. "Stop talking nonsense. It's obvious the owner has changed."
He scanned the surroundings. The teahouse looked just as he remembered, but the proprietors were different. He wondered what had become of that young couple. This, he mused, was how places remained while people changed.
The teahouse stood by the main road, bustling with customers who soon filled every seat, their voices a mix of accents from all corners of the land.
A few soldiers couldn't resist curious glances, but Zhong Changrong quietly stopped them.
"We're near the capital now—crowded and full of prying eyes. Everyone, stay cautious," he warned. "This isn't the Border Commandery, where we can act freely. Especially since we're the general's men."
The soldiers quickly straightened up and averted their gazes.
One soldier couldn't help but whisper, "Boss, I heard the general was quite renowned in the capital back in the day—"
Zhong Changrong's expression darkened briefly. "That's all in the past. It's been over ten years—no one remembers the general anymore—"
As he spoke, laughter and chatter from the table behind them suddenly grew louder.
"—So she won! Even the Third Prince invited her to the literary gathering—"
This sparked an uproar around them, with guests from other tables chiming in. "Really? She actually won?" "How could a young woman like her manage that?"Surrounded by so many inquiries, the man who had spoken earlier grew even more smug. "Of course they won. The Crown Prince of Zhongshan personally delivered the invitation on behalf of the Third Prince."
The surrounding clamor intensified. "Impressive!" "These young ladies..." "This literary gathering is going to be quite lively."
Amidst the commotion, Zhong Changrong's table remained silent. The soldiers quietly sipped their tea, their eyes darting around as they pricked up their ears to listen to these people and events rarely heard of in the Border Commandery—the Third Prince, the Crown Prince of Zhongshan, literary gatherings...
The Third Prince was a royal prince, yet everyone spoke of him so casually. Truly, the capital was different from the Border Commandery, where the most talked-about topic was usually the commandery governor's eldest son.
And listen to the kinds of things they did here—literary gatherings! The Border Commandery had no such refined activities. The most they had were rowdy parties thrown by the commandery governor's son or the general's nephews—eating, drinking, and reveling, always ending in brawls.
And then there were the young women...
So impressive, so bustling. This was indeed the heart of the imperial capital.
The soldiers listened excitedly to these unfamiliar topics until a name slipped into their ears.
"—Chu Ling."
Chu Ling? The name sounded somewhat familiar. The soldiers were momentarily stunned, but there were many people with the same name in the world, and with so many in the capital, it wasn't strange.
Earlier, Boss Zhong had said that after more than a decade, everything had changed, and no one in the capital remembered the general anymore.
They saw Boss Zhong eating his noodles with detached indifference, slurping down half a bowl in one go.
So, they all continued to listen intently, some sipping tea, others eating noodles.
"—Of course he was extraordinary. That was Garrison General Chu Ling. Back in the day, he caused even bigger stirs than these young ladies—"
Sputter! Zhong Changrong, who had been slurping his noodles, choked. He couldn't even cough properly, spewing broth and noodles from his mouth and nose. The soldiers at the table reacted quickly, grabbing their bowls and dodging the spray.
The commotion drew glances from those around them. Seeing a middle-aged man with a scarred face covered in food, some chuckled, some sneered, and others averted their eyes in fear of the scar—clearly, these were soldiers from the Border Commandery, unsophisticated and easily amazed by something as simple as noodles with an egg.
The crowd paid them no further mind and resumed their chatter and laughter.
Zhong Changrong grabbed a soldier's sleeve to wipe his face. "You little brats dodged fast enough."
The soldiers laughed in surprise and gathered around again, whispering, "Boss, were they talking about... the general?"
There were plenty of people named Chu Ling, but could it be that there happened to be another Garrison General named Chu Ling in the world?
Zhong Changrong held his chopsticks, this time not bringing any noodles to his mouth. His eyes flickered with shock and doubt.
The surrounding voices answered for him.
"—Garrison General Chu Ling. Haven't you heard of him? Have you all forgotten? The first time he met His Majesty, he startled him off his horse."
"Hahaha, looking back, he was truly reckless. So, it's no surprise his daughter is causing such a stir now."
"But Chu Ling's boldness won His Majesty's favor. He led troops and became a general at a young age."
"Still, Chu Ling truly had skill. With his illustrious military achievements, if not for him, the King of Xiliang would never have bowed in submission and sent tribute year after year."
Hearing the repeated mentions of "Chu Ling" and the events described, there was no doubt—it was unmistakably their general, his elder brother, Garrison General Chu Ling.Zhong Changrong bit down on his chopsticks, the scar on his face twitching, his eyes wide with disbelief. Hadn’t everything changed? Even the teahouse owner was different, so why was the capital still buzzing with talk of Chu Ling?
He almost felt as if time had reversed, and he’d been thrown back more than a decade!
It was downright eerie!
…
…
Not just the roadside tea stalls outside the capital, but even places far from the city were abuzz with the latest news from the capital.
Entering the Central Plains, even the smallest towns were more bustling and prosperous than the Border Commandery, filled with elegant wine houses and teahouses.
In the most luxurious restaurant of this city, guests came and went. One table stood out with a large group—old and young, seemingly a complete family with grandparents, parents, and grandchildren—yet something felt off.
This family was dressed in the height of local fashion, their clothes made of the finest fabrics, adorned with gold hairpins, silver bracelets, and pearls. Even a young boy of seven or eight wore a heavy gold necklace—
The servants standing behind them were also lavishly dressed.
These were wealthy people, extremely wealthy.
“Must be some country bumpkin tycoon,” a waiter whispered to a regular customer, nodding toward the table. “As soon as they entered the city, they asked for the best tailor shops and goldsmiths, then rushed in and bought several chests of goods, putting everything on at once.”
“What’s the point? Flaunting wealth on the road?” the regular customer wondered. “With so many elderly and children, aren’t they afraid of being robbed?”
The waiter shook his head with a smile. “Who knows? Maybe they’re used to feeling safe in the countryside and fear nothing.”
As they spoke, a young girl at the table waved her hand.
The waiter immediately left the regular customer, calling out loudly, “Coming, honored guest!” and hurried over.
These country folks were generous spenders; good service could earn a hefty tip.
Hey, Jun Jiuling.
Jun Jiuling was the first book of mine to sell film and television rights, and it holds extraordinary significance for me.
Although I know everyone has different opinions about adaptations, there’s no denying that film and TV are the most powerful means of dissemination.
Of course, transforming text into visuals is a huge challenge, so before the broadcast, I was quite anxious. But I was fortunate to work with a great company—General Manager Gao was very sincere, screenwriter Shi Liang deeply understands web novels, and director Xie Ze, who has helmed period dramas, youth dramas, and web novel adaptations like Fu Yao, managed to preserve the essence of the original work as much as possible in meeting the demands of film and television.
After it started airing at 8 p.m. today, I watched three episodes. It’s inevitable that it can’t be exactly the same as the original, but when I saw the broken engagement scene, the momentum immediately picked up.
This is a different viewing experience. I know that for readers, there might be a lot of discomfort, but I hope everyone will give it a try. Thinking about when the release was announced, I nervously searched online and saw someone say, “It’s Xi Xing! I read her books when I was young, and now there’s a TV series? I’ll take a look.” At that moment, my eyes welled up—it felt like my youth hadn’t been in vain; it left a mark.
Friends, whether you like it or not, whether you’re looking forward to it or not, please give it a glance. Those of you who read Jun Jiuling back in the day, do you remember that chapter where we campaigned for the top spot in the rankings? I used a poem by Nalan Xingde:
I, too, am a wild soul by birth! By chance, I dwell in the dusty capital, by the gates of the noble.
With wine, I only pour libations to the land of Zhao—who understands this intent of mine? I never thought I’d find a kindred spirit.Blue-eyed heroes sing with spirits high,
Before the wine we wipe heroic tears dry.
Don’t you see the moon bright as water clear?
This night with you, we’ll drink and drown all care.
Let slanderers prate with eyebrows raised on high!
The fair have been envied since days gone by.
What use to ask about my life up and down?
I but laugh and let fortune smile or frown.
Thinking of the past, I regret from the start.
A day’s deep faith outlasts a thousand years;
Our love might be renewed in future spheres.
I remember the promise made from heart.
It has been four years since Jun Jiuling concluded. I hope more people will come to know it, and that those who already do will remember it longer, even longer.
I extend my gratitude to all the production team, the director, the actors, and the behind-the-scenes crew. Logically, as a complete bystander to this drama, it might not be my place to offer thanks. Yet, having watched it today, I still wish to express my appreciation.
Tonight, seeing those moving figures on the screen, those familiar names and lines, countless memories flooded my heart. I couldn’t help but say: I miss you all—those who journeyed with Jun Jiuling. Many of you still follow Xixing’s works, while others have grown and developed different tastes. Yet, the words "Jun Jiuling" will remain in your memories. How honored Jun Jiuling is, how honored Xixing is.
Here, I bow to you all in gratitude.
I love you, and I thank you—for bringing Jun Jiuling to life, and for making Xixing the author she is.
OpenNovel