Chu Zhao knew this day would come.
But she had never imagined how she would feel when it truly arrived.
When she had stayed by her father’s side before, every time he closed his eyes and fell into slumber, her heart would stop in fear. Only when she confirmed his pulse was still beating would her own heartbeat resume.
At this moment, she held her father’s wrist, unable to feel his pulse, and could only hear the loud thumping of her own heart.
Zhong Changrong’s voice drifted in and out, sometimes near, sometimes far.
“—The General had long been relying on medicine to sustain himself, with one final dose remaining.”
“It was said back then that this medicine was for emergencies. After taking it, a withered tree could briefly return to life, but only for a moment.”
“Without taking the final dose, the General could persist for a long time, even in a coma.”
“Earlier, the General instructed me, saying he wanted to die on the battlefield.”
At this point, Zhong Changrong choked back tears, his voice trembling.
“Miss, please forgive me for not telling you and acting on my own.”
Chu Zhao turned to look at him. “Uncle Zhong, you did not act on your own. This was Father’s choice. Look.” She turned her gaze back to Chu Ling. “How happy Father is.”
“Not only did Father die on the battlefield.”
“He also fought the King of Xiliang and defeated him once again.”
“And—”
She looked back at Zhong Changrong, a smile blooming on her face.
“There was me. I fought alongside him.”
“Father’s final journey was one of exhilaration.”
Zhong Changrong wiped his tears roughly with his large hand and nodded. “Yes, that’s right. The General was very happy. With you by his side, fighting alongside the soldiers, and defeating Xiliang once more, the General had no regrets in this life.”
She, too, had no regrets. This time, she had reached her father’s side, stayed with him, fought alongside him on the battlefield, letting him see her heart and know that this daughter had not been raised in vain. He saw how capable and fearless she was, and even as he departed, he could rest assured.
“Issue the order to announce,” Chu Zhao raised her hand and gently closed Chu Ling’s still-open eyes. “Garrison General Chu Ling has passed away.”
Zhong Changrong hesitated slightly and asked, “Now? Is it appropriate?”
Although the King of Xiliang had retreated in this battle, the war was not yet over. Would announcing Chu Ling’s death shake the army’s morale?
Chu Zhao knelt before her father’s knees and said, “Now is the time. Let the soldiers know that the General fought alongside them and died on the battlefield. With such a general, even if he is no longer here, he remains in their hearts. Even if the King of Xiliang returns immediately, the soldiers will have no fear.”
The General had exhausted the last of his strength to drive back the King of Xiliang. Announcing his death now would not bring panic.
Grief would transform into strength.
Fearlessness would lead to invincibility.
An army in mourning is sure to win.
Zhong Changrong acknowledged the order, stood up, and walked to the war drum himself, striking it.
The soldiers, who were regrouping and resting, were startled by the sudden drumbeat. This was not a battle drum—it was a funeral drum. Everyone looked toward the source of the sound in shock. Nearby, command flags fluttered, and shouts echoed one after another.
“Send off the heroic soul of Garrison General Chu Ling!”
The soldiers on the ground surged toward the central army formation like dark clouds, accompanied by thunderous roars.
“Garrison General Chu Ling!”
“Send off the General’s heroic soul!”
The thunderous cries shook half the sky.
On a distant hillside, the previously quiet horses grew restless, but the riders atop them forgot to soothe them.Xiao Man, who had been stubbornly turning away, now swiveled her head around, her expression stunned. "Chu Ling is dead? Really? Is it a military stratagem to deceive the Western Liang people?"
She was about to say more when the person beside her shot her a glare, signaling her to stop talking.
Xiao Man fell silent and looked at the woman in front of her.
The woman had remained motionless for a long time, seemingly oblivious to the thunderous noises and the tremors beneath her feet.
As a cold wind blew, she lifted her hand, wiped away a pearl-like tear from the corner of her eye, and gently flicked it away.
"A Mian, escort the General."
……
……
Chu Ling’s funeral would be held formally only after the war had concluded and the court had received the news, with officials arriving to bestow posthumous honors.
Over the past two days, Chu Zhao seemed both busy and not.
She sat in her father’s seat, discussing military affairs with the officers, but she only listened and did not speak, leaving the specific decisions to Zhong Changrong.
She inspected the wounded soldiers’ camp, offering comfort to the injured.
At night, she personally patrolled the main camp.
Everything felt as if her father were still there.
Standing in the open wilderness, Chu Zhao felt the biting cold wind. Footsteps approached from behind.
Chu Zhao did not turn around, as if she hadn’t noticed, until the person called out to her.
"The Empress is diligent in military affairs, but she cannot skip meals," Xie Yanlai said.
Chu Zhao replied, "The Empress is not hungry. The Empress, devoted to the nation and its people, can subsist on wind and dew alone."
Xie Yanlai nearly burst out laughing. This girl was always like this—capable of saying something irreverent at any moment, even now.
He suppressed his smile, stepped beside her, and tossed something into her arms.
"This humble general offers a tribute to the Empress. Please accept it," he said.
Chu Zhao picked it up and unwrapped the paper, revealing a roasted chicken leg. She hummed in acknowledgment and nodded. "My subject is thoughtful. A Le, reward him."
A Le, standing nearby, responded with a smile.
Xie Yanlai did not thank her, instead letting out a dry chuckle and turning to gaze at the pitch-black night, where the lights of the city twinkled like stars.
Beside him, the girl quietly ate the chicken leg.
"If you’re sad, just cry," Xie Yanlai suddenly said.
Chu Zhao looked up at him, the chicken leg in her mouth, and mumbled in protest, "What are you talking about? I’m not sad. I told you, I’ve long been prepared."
Xie Yanlai lowered his head to look at her. "What does it matter if you were prepared for your parents’ passing?"
The moment of loss still pierces the heart with unbearable pain.
Being prepared is merely an act of helplessness, not an absence of pain.
She had armored herself with reasons—no regrets, her father’s happiness—but in the end, she couldn’t even bring herself to enter the room where her father had once lived.
She simply didn’t dare face that empty room, didn’t dare think about the person she would never see again.
Under the cold moonlight, large tears rolled down the girl’s cheeks. She hugged her knees and wept silently.
A Le also began to cry, wanting to complain about how annoying Xie Yanlai was for making the young lady cry with just one sentence. But she also felt relieved. Since the General’s death, the young lady had remained calm and composed—deploying defenses against Western Liang, sending messages to the court, preparing for the memorial—everything in perfect order, earning admiration. Yet A Le knew something was wrong with the young lady’s emotional state.
As a child, if the young lady couldn’t find her father during hide-and-seek, she would cry her heart out.
Now that she would never find him again, how much pain must she be enduring?
But A Le didn’t dare say anything, unsure of how to broach the subject.
Thankfully, there was Xie Yanlai, who never knew the right thing to say.
Only he could make the young lady cry.
A Le watched as Xie Yanlai shifted his feet and sat down beside the young lady. She let out a long sigh and stepped back quietly.
……
……When Chu Zhao woke up, the sky was already bright. She stared blankly at her surroundings for a moment before recognizing her father's room.
She was still sleeping on the small couch beside the bed, only **there was no longer her father sleeping there.
Gone.
In this life, she no longer had a father either.
Chu Zhao's heart suddenly twisted with a sharp pain. She instinctively bent over, pressing her chest, when her hand touched something greasy—a half-eaten chicken leg rolled out from her collar.
Chu Zhao froze, caught between anger and amusement: "A Le, A Le!"
A Le came running in from outside: "You're awake, Miss?"
Holding the chicken leg, Chu Zhao asked: "What's going on? Even if you didn't change my clothes or help me wash up, how could you let me sleep hugging a chicken leg?"
A Le laughed heartily: "Don't blame me." She pointed outside to tattle, "It was Xie Yanlai who insisted. He said to let you sleep like this and not move you."
Last night... Chu Zhao remembered she had been crying, crying until she fell asleep—truth be told, she hadn't slept soundly since seeing her father.
"You fell asleep, and Xie Yanlai carried you back," A Le said. "He wouldn't let anyone change your clothes either—just took off your cloak and shoes, covered you with a blanket, and said everything else could wait until you'd slept properly. That fellow—"
Before she could finish, heavy footsteps sounded outside.
Xie Yanlai walked in and said coldly: "What about this fellow?"
A Le pursed her lips and fell silent.
Chu Zhao smiled: "My subject has served well."
Did Xie Yanlai fear such remarks? He'd long grown accustomed to them. He chuckled dryly twice: "Your Majesty is most wise."
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