Youthful Glory

The Cold Dew season in September marked the chilling air that was about to condense.

As the autumn deepened in the capital, the imperial streets were lined with dense ginkgo trees, their golden leaves carpeting the ground in a dazzling and festive display, as if celebrating the triumphant return of the Great Xian army laden with glory.

Early in the morning, the streets were already packed with eager commoners, while the carved windows of teahouses and taverns stood wide open, everyone craning their necks for a glimpse outside.

“They’ve entered the city!”

“The Emperor has descended the city gate tower!”

Today, the imperial procession had personally arrived at the western gate to welcome the victorious army. The area was densely guarded by the Imperial City Department and the Palace Command, making it nearly impossible to see what was happening inside. Yet, there was no need to see—just the occasional news of the army’s entry or the Emperor’s descent was enough to set the waiting crowd into a frenzy of excitement.

Before long, Emperor Chengkang’s oral decree was announced from the western gate.

The great victory in Rongzhou and the complete recovery of the thirteen northern states were achievements worthy of eternal glory. Naturally, Emperor Chengkang intended to reward the army and grant amnesty to the realm. But what truly delighted the people and had them cheering “Long live the Emperor!” was the exemption from taxes for three years—a tangible benefit to their lives.

Previously, when Lingzhou suffered floods and epidemics, the court had only granted a one-year tax exemption. Now, with three years announced outright, it was clear just how overjoyed Emperor Chengkang was over the recapture of Rongzhou.

By mid-morning, movement finally stirred at the city gate.

Jiang Xu appeared at the far end of the long street, riding his famed steed, Chixue. With his sword-like brows and starry eyes, his peerless handsomeness remained as cold and solemn as ever.

Closest behind him were trusted generals like Shen Yu and the coffins of those who had fallen in the half-year-long campaign to reclaim the lost territories. Further back marched the elite soldiers of Great Xian, who had shed blood and sacrificed their lives for the empire.

Even in victory, the army maintained its disciplined formation, showing no trace of arrogance or complacency.

“Prince Dingbei is truly—” Bai Minmin stared in a daze before murmuring, “Today, for some reason, he seems even more striking than Second Young Master Shu…”

Zhang Huaiyu rapped her head lightly with his folding fan.

Bai Minmin belatedly rubbed the back of her head, her gaze still fixed on Jiang Xu. She murmured again, “A Tan is so fortunate…”

Zhang Huaiyu scoffed. “In that case, you must be truly unfortunate.”

Bai Minmin stared dreamily for a while longer. Only when the army had passed the halfway point did she finally withdraw her gaze, sighing softly as she cupped her cheeks. “Yes, I really am unfortunate.”

“...”

“If you’re unfortunate, then endure it quietly.”

“Zhang Huaiyu, you—!”

The two of them, as usual, couldn’t go three sentences without bickering, drawing helpless headshakes from the maids attending them.

As the army advanced, fruits and gifts rained down upon them without pause.

Zhou Jingwan had not come with Bai Minmin today but instead accompanied Shen Hua. Shen Yu’s latest military exploits had filled Shen Hua with pride. Before their father’s passing, he had repeatedly urged them to strive for excellence and restore the Shen family’s glory. With her brother achieving so much, she believed their father could rest peacefully in the afterlife.

After discussing Shen Yu with Zhou Jingwan for a while, Shen Hua’s gaze drifted back to Jiang Xu at the front.

“Is that a sachet hanging from His Highness’s waist?” Shen Hua, ever observant, immediately noticed the accessory that seemed out of place with his attire.

Zhou Jingwan studied it carefully before nodding softly. “With those colors, it must be A Tan’s handiwork.”

The two exchanged a knowing glance.Jiang Xu sat upright on his horse as he entered the city, recognizing many familiar faces along the way. Even his father-in-law stood among the crowd with a radiant expression, occasionally nodding and conversing with Duke Changguo beside him.

Yet, his Consort was nowhere to be seen.

Once, after their intimate moments, Ming Tan had lazily curled up in his arms and murmured, "I heard that when you were conferred the title 'Dingbei,' His Majesty personally came to the city gates to bestow it upon you? Next time you return victorious, I must go early to the gates and witness the grandeur of the Great Xian's War God!"

At this memory, Jiang Xu's gaze darkened slightly, and he tightened his grip on the reins.

As the procession reached the end of the long street, the crowd remained densely packed, their cheers unceasing. Amid the sea of people, Jiang Xu suddenly sensed something and looked up toward an open carved window on the left side of the upper floor.

Many at the windows waved and cheered at him—except for one, which stood empty.

He paused thoughtfully, his gaze lingering for a moment—

Upon returning victorious, generals were naturally expected to report to the palace first and attend celebratory banquets. Emperor Chengkang hosted a feast at Yong Garden to reward the armies, and the revelry lasted late into the night before finally dispersing.

Jiang Xu returned to his residence deep into the night. Uncle Fu had been waiting at the gates of the estate and hurriedly ushered him inside upon his arrival.

Handing over the horsewhip, Jiang Xu unfastened his sleeve cuffs and belt, asking calmly, "Has the Consort retired?"

Uncle Fu hesitated before answering, "This…" He replied uncertainly, "The Consort… may have retired?"

Jiang Xu lifted his eyes. "What do you mean, 'may have retired'?"

"The Consort… she isn't in the estate. This old servant doesn’t know if she’s asleep." Uncle Fu wore an awkward expression. "Early this morning, the Consort insisted on going to the manor in the outskirts to settle accounts. Of all days, she chose today—no one could dissuade her. It seems… she didn’t wish to see you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Uncle Fu froze, instinctively covering his lips. He had blurted out the truth without thinking.

Jiang Xu was silent for a moment before asking, "Which manor?"

Uncle Fu quickly recalled, "I believe it’s the one near the Si River in the western outskirts… It’s part of the Consort’s dowry."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Xu retrieved the horsewhip from him, rewrapped his belt, and swiftly mounted his horse again. With a sharp turn, he galloped into the deep night.

"Ah—my Lord! My Lord!"

Uncle Fu called after him several times, but Jiang Xu seemed not to hear, his figure rapidly shrinking into a distant speck in the darkness.

Sighing in worry, Uncle Fu shook his head. If the Consort was angry, then his lord ought to think of a way to properly coax her. What use was rushing over alone? At the very least, he should have brought a couple of carts of spoils to show sincerity. Their lord was still too young, far too young.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Uncle Fu turned and walked back into the estate, shaking his head regretfully—

The night sky was deep black, dotted with autumn stars. The outskirts of the capital seemed quieter and more serene than the city itself. It was already late autumn—the once-irritating croaks of frogs and chirps of cicadas had long faded, leaving only the occasional call of night birds and the rustle of wind through treetops, where withered leaves either fell or whispered.

Ming Tan tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep.

It wasn’t because the room was crude or unfamiliar. The manor, built near the water, stood on fertile land, and the tenants lived prosperous lives.

Upon hearing that the mistress had come to settle accounts, the steward had prepared a spacious room for her, furnished with newly purchased items from the capital, arranged elegantly and comfortably. The bedding had been carefully packed by Suxin and Lǜ'e and brought from the estate.

Yet Ming Tan simply couldn’t sleep.The moment she closed her eyes, her mind was filled with the striking image of Jiang Qizhi leading his troops down the long street.

This man had truly cast a spell on her.

No matter how much she told herself not to forgive him so easily, she couldn’t help making excuses for him in her heart, always thinking that he, too, had his own struggles. Wherever he was, it seemed impossible for her to look away—just like today on that long street… Ming Tan lightly patted her cheeks, then turned over and pulled up the embroidered quilt, forcing herself to stop dwelling on it.

Suddenly, there was a faint sound at the window. Assuming it was Suxin, Ming Tan mumbled from under the quilt, "Go to sleep, no need to keep watch."

When no reply came after a long moment, she finally peeked out from under the covers in confusion.

Tonight’s moonlight was exceptionally bright, spilling like water through the window lattice, casting a gentle yet clear glow on the figure standing silently by the window.

Ming Tan stared blankly, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on the visitor as she propped herself up slightly on the bed. Without realizing it, her heartbeat began to quicken.

Was she seeing things? Or was she already dreaming, her thoughts from the day manifesting in her sleep?

She pinched her own cheek—it hurt. This wasn’t a dream.

In that brief moment, Jiang Xu had already stepped closer.

He was still wearing the same armor that gleamed with a cold, imposing light when he led his troops into the city earlier that day. The late-night chill clung to him, carrying the faint crispness of his journey here. Only when he was near could she see how much thinner he had become since leaving the capital—his Adam’s apple more pronounced, the lines of his face even more refined and striking.

His eyes held emotions too complex to decipher, like a still lake concealing turbulent undercurrents.

He gazed at Ming Tan for what felt like an eternity before finally reaching out slowly, brushing away the stray strands of hair from her face. His voice was low and rough as he said, "I’m back, A Tan."