Eight years had passed, and she had finally returned here.
The winter sun hung high in the sky, the snow plains stretching flat and endless. Chu Qiao sat upright on horseback, her back straight as she gazed at the banners fluttering across the snowy expanse. A flood of fragmented memories surged forth like a breached dam, pouring out in torrents.
Eight years ago, it was on this very snow plain that she had opened her eyes for the first time upon arriving in the Ximeng Continent. Overwhelming bloodshed and nauseating slaughter had swept over her like a tidal wave. She had run barefoot through the desolate wilderness, clad in tattered clothes, with nowhere to escape. Now, in the blink of an eye, time had raced by, and she found herself seated on horseback, facing a group of trembling children in cages across from her. The bow in her hand nearly shattered inch by inch.
"A Chu." Yan Xun urged his horse forward, turning to look at her with a slight frown. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Chu Qiao shook her head. "I'm fine."
A thunderous drumbeat echoed through the air. Despite the bitter cold, a man on a distant platform, stripped to the waist, vigorously pounded a war drum. The rumbling beats seemed to rise from beneath the earth, seeping into the very marrow of one's bones. The man, sweating profusely with a red cloth tied around his head, shouted loudly as he drummed. The servants of Mu Hejia roared in unison, all clad in high-grade soft armor made of sea-sand blue leather, their waists cinched with gold-inlaid belts. Standing together under the sunlight, their brilliance was almost blinding—a display of wealth and influence that bordered on vulgar ostentation.
"The Muhe Clan truly lives up to its reputation as the foremost family of the Elder Council. To dress their servants in sea-sand blue armor—such authority and extravagance."
Chu Qiao glanced sideways and saw, hidden behind the banners, a deep purple fur tent where a handsome young man with narrow eyes sat. He appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen years old, with skin as pale as jade and lips as red as blood. Dressed in a cloak made of Southern Wasteland phoenix feathers and a snow-eagle collar, he exuded an air of refined elegance.
This person was also an old acquaintance of Chu Qiao's. Back in this same season, on this very land, he had once aimed an arrow at her.
Young Prince Jing took a sip of tea and leaned in with a smile, addressing the son of the Ling Prince beside him. "Zhong Yan, your father, the Ling Prince, is known for his wealth. I wonder if he has ever equipped a personal guard with sea-sand blue armor?"
Zhao Zhong Yan, in his early twenties and fairly handsome, chuckled lightly and replied casually, "Our Lingxi is but a small frontier territory. How could we afford such extravagance? Jing Han, you must be teasing me."
"What's so great about sea-sand blue? Someday, I'll equip a guard with Bìluò Silk—now that would be a grand gesture."
Young Prince Jing and the son of the Ling Prince burst into laughter. The eldest son of General Yue Xing, Yue Yi, draped an arm over the speaking youth's shoulder and laughed heartily. "Thirteenth Prince, if you truly equip a guard with Bìluò Silk, even the Crown Prince of Bian Tang would have to concede defeat to you."
Zhao Song raised an eyebrow, about to retort, when his eyes caught a slender, delicate figure behind the dense ranks of guards and banners. He leaped up from his chair and dashed outside, shouting as he ran, "Wait until I return to argue with you!"
"Hey, you're here too!"
Pushing through the crowd, the young man grabbed the girl's hand, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he exclaimed loudly.
Yan Xun stood behind Chu Qiao, his eyes narrowing slightly. After a moment, he gave a faint nod. "Thirteenth Prince.""Young Master Yan, I haven't seen you for quite some time. Where have you been?"
Yan Xun smiled and nodded slightly. "I'm just an idle man, wandering around Yingge Court all day without any serious business."
"Hey, don't be so modest." Zhao Song grinned, revealing a set of white teeth. "Just a few days ago, Teacher Fu used your poetry as a model for us to study. But why did you have to use such obscure words? I stared at them for ages without understanding and got punished to copy it two hundred times. Little Dezi is still writing it for me in the palace."
"Oh? Has the Thirteenth Prince not yet graduated from the Imperial Academy?"
"Three more months," Zhao Song said while glancing sideways at Chu Qiao, chuckling. "In three months I'll turn eighteen, then I can establish my own residence and take a princess consort."
"Is that so," Yan Xun replied. "Then I must congratulate the Thirteenth Prince."
"No need, no need. Just prepare a generous gift when the time comes." Zhao Song laughed, then tugged at Chu Qiao's sleeve. "Young Master Yan, may I borrow your companion for a moment?"
Yan Xun glanced sideways at Chu Qiao and, seeing no objection from her, nodded faintly with a smile.
"Haha, Young Master Yan, thank you! A Chu, come with me!"
Their figures quickly disappeared into the layered crowds. Yan Xun, clad in a black fur cloak with jet-black hair and sea-deep eyes, gradually lost the warmth in his gaze as he looked into the distance.
"A Chu, look, what's this?"
Chu Qiao took the golden box that Zhao Song had been carefully protecting. Opening it, she found long wooden sticks with red powder at the tips, which looked strangely familiar.
"Matches?" The girl slightly furrowed her brows. "For starting fires?"
"Ah! A Chu, you're amazing!" Zhao Song clicked his tongue in admiration, giving a thumbs up. "How do you know everything? These were tribute from the Franksa people who came by sea from the west to my father. It's my first time seeing them too. Look, you just strike them like this and they light up. Isn't it magical?"
Chu Qiao nodded with a faint smile, flicking Zhao Song's forehead with her finger as she chuckled. "Yes, very magical. Since they're so magical, you'd better keep them safe."
"A Chu!" Zhao Song covered his head, complaining loudly. "I told you not to flick my forehead!"
Chu Qiao shrugged. "Fine, I won't flick it then."
"A Chu," Zhao Song moved in front of Chu Qiao, his expression turning serious. "I came to find you for serious business. How could you come to the royal hunt with Yan Xun today? Don't you know Zhuge Yue has returned? If he sees you, wouldn't that mean disaster?"
Chu Qiao felt warmth in her heart and patted Zhao Song's shoulder. "Don't worry, I have my ways."
"Ah," Zhao Song sighed. "You always have your ways anyway. I've been worrying for nothing again."
"Not at all," Chu Qiao said with a smile. "You letting me know you're concerned shows you still consider me a friend. I appreciate your kindness."
"You appreciate it?" Zhao Song immediately perked up, leaning in with a grin. "Then don't go back to Yanbei with Yan Xun. Stay here with me instead?"
"No," Chu Qiao refused outright. "Anything else, but not this."
Zhao Song immediately sighed again, his shoulders slumping with an I-knew-it-would-be-like-this expression.By now, they had known each other for six or seven years. When she first followed Yan Xun into the palace, everyone regarded her as his maid or bodyguard. No one ever questioned her identity or investigated the origins of such a young child. All those who knew the truth around Yan Xun had died, and the servants of the Zhuge family had no opportunity to enter the palace and see her. As for Zhuge Yue, the only one who knew everything, for some unknown reason, he remained tight-lipped. A month after the incident, he left Zhenhuang and went to Wolong Mountain to recuperate, never to return.
Although these nobles of the imperial court had all seen her during the initial hunting grounds, these arrogant individuals would never spare a second glance for a disheveled little slave. Even Wei Shuyou, who harbored a deep-seated hatred for her, only saw her as a servant by Yan Xun's side. His attempts at revenge were always directed at Yan Xun, never complicating matters further.
However, this peaceful life changed after they encountered Zhao Song. This young prince, who had only met her twice before, immediately recognized the little maid from the Zhuge residence who had repeatedly teased him. Yet, out of kindness, he never revealed her identity. When the imperial nobles collectively turned against them, he secretly helped Yan Xun and her, aiding them through one crisis after another.
To be precise, he was the only friend they had in the capital.
Unfortunately, Zhao Zhengde was his father, and he was a prince of Daxia—a fact that Yan Xun could likely never come to terms with.
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