Two months later — Capital of Nanruo, Duan Wang’s Manor.
Several ministers who had come to discuss state affairs with Duan Wang stood and bowed in farewell. They were finally about to take their leave. Duan Wang remained seated calmly at his desk, nodding with a gentle smile.
One minister said, “Your Highness must take care of your health. You’ve clearly lost a lot of weight recently.”
The others all nodded with concern.
Since the age of fifteen, the Wangye—though affectionate and loyal to his family and always thinking of his imperial brother—seldom stayed in the capital. Out of twelve months a year, he spent nearly ten on the borders, gathering intelligence on enemy nations, training troops, liaising with other states, and defending against foreign threats. Truly, he bore the burdens of the nation.
Nanruo’s current peace and safety, free from foreign invasion or the threat of destruction, could nearly all be credited to Duan Wang’s tireless efforts, burning the midnight oil for the country. His health was never strong, and he had just returned from the desolate frontier after a long month. The ministers had hoped he could finally rest and enjoy a bit of comfort, but instead, he had clearly grown even thinner.
Even the line of his jaw had become more pronounced and tense, and he always seemed a bit weary.
It wasn’t exactly haggard—in private, they even whispered that he looked more radiant than before, in a strange sort of way.
Jiang Huaichu waved them off gently. “It’s nothing serious. Thank you for your concern—I’ll be careful.”
Only then did the ministers relax. One of them exchanged glances with the others and smiled, saying, “Wangye is to marry soon. Since it’s rare for us to see you, we must offer our congratulations and share in your joy.”
Jiang Huaichu’s expression froze briefly, then he smiled. “Thank you.”
The atmosphere remained warm and pleasant. After a few more courteous exchanges, the ministers finally left in high spirits. But the moment the doors closed, Jiang Huaichu grabbed a plain handkerchief from the desk, bent over, and began to dry-heave violently.
Taifei entered just in time to see this and was immediately filled with worry. Remembering to shut the door tightly, she rushed over to rub his back and soothe him. “Are you all right?”
Jiang Huaichu caught his breath, shaking his head slowly.
Taifei scolded angrily, “It’s been three months—why are you still like this?”
Jiang Huaichu waved his hand weakly and forced a smile. “It’s much better now.”
Taifei’s eyes dimmed with concern, and she sighed.
The young Wangye had already been tossed about even during early pregnancy—enduring a bumpy journey to return to the capital. For nearly an entire month in a carriage, he’d vomited every day. His older brother had taken out his anger on him over Xiao Yun, and in turn, loathed the child Xiao Yun had left behind. No matter how much she had begged, he refused to slow the carriage or stop to let Jiang Huaichu rest, treating only him and ignoring the unborn child.
At last, they reached the capital, and in the careful care of the Duan Wang’s household, the pregnancy had stabilized. The vomiting had mostly stopped, but he still dry-heaved often and only truly improved after passing the first trimester. Unlike most expectant mothers, who feel better after three months, Jiang Huaichu still felt ill in the mornings from time to time.
Taifei grumbled, “So fond of stirring up trouble—you better not end up with a temper like Xiao Yun.”
Jiang Huaichu paused mid-way through organizing his papers, said nothing, neatly stacked them, then stood and said, “I’m going to Miluo Manor—it may take a couple of days.”
Taifei nodded helplessly.
The child was of the Xiao family. The old man already adored Jiang Huaichu, and now with the baby, he doted on him even more. At 95 years old, still celibate and with no companion, he was endlessly fascinated by the baby Jiang Huaichu carried. He even wanted to move into the mansion to watch him day and night, like a farmer staring at his crops. After being tactfully refused again and again, he had no choice but to sulk at Miluo Manor, constantly writing letters and faking illness just to get Jiang Huaichu to visit.
Taifei saw that Jiang Huaichu was carrying yet another armful of official documents and immediately reached out to snatch them away, her tone suddenly stern: “If you’re going, then don’t read anything! How do you expect to manage like this every single day? Your body won’t hold up! Who else behaves like you? You staying up all night…”
Jiang Huaichu turned his back to her to keep her from grabbing the documents, his tone resolute: “Just the last half-month left. I have to finish handling everything.”
Taifei stood off with him for a moment. She knew he only appeared gentle and obedient, but once he made up his mind, nothing could sway him. She sighed.
The young Wangye never let her see, but she knew his belly must have grown quite a bit. It was midsummer, and Nanruo was farther south than Great Ning, the climate significantly hotter. Even she had switched to wearing light gauze, yet the young Wangye still wore thick silks.
He was tolerant of heat and afraid of the cold, so it wasn’t too uncomfortable for him. Still, with the loose garments, thick, opaque fabrics, and a slightly loosened waistband, in half a month’s time, even those wouldn’t be enough to hide his belly.
At her age, she’d seen plenty of pregnant women. The belly usually didn’t show much during the first three months, but as soon as the fourth month hit, it would start growing rapidly.
The young Wangye was well aware. As soon as he returned, he shut himself in to handle the backlog of official business from the past few months, while also preparing for the months ahead. He barely took a moment’s rest.
He had told her that he planned to go into seclusion at Miluo Manor once he reached three and a half months, and stay there until after the child was born.
The steward outside came to hurry him, saying the carriage was ready. Jiang Huaichu nodded to her, hugged his bundle of documents, and headed out.
Taifei watched his increasingly thin back disappear and felt a faint ache in her heart.
Ever since returning from Great Ning, the young Wangye had become even quieter, even withdrawn. Though he still wore a mild smile when meeting others, it no longer had the vibrant, genuine warmth it did back in Northern Ning. He had resumed wearing the human-skin mask he used during his days as Duan Wang, becoming again the refined, aloof noble — serene and courteous on the surface, yet somehow difficult to approach.
He now felt like the moon above — its light gentle and clear, but utterly unreachable.
This was the unspoken demand and constraint of his status on his nature and conduct. There was nothing to be done. He had always kept his thoughts to himself, and no one could truly read what was going on inside him.
These days, the only time she could coax a real reaction from him was when she teased him about the child, tried to touch his belly — only then would he scowl in embarrassment.
…
In the carriage, with no one else around, Jiang Huaichu, face flushed, slowly raised his hand from the cushion beside him and gently placed it on his belly.
The curve there was growing more pronounced day by day. When he placed his hand firmly, the bump was unmistakable — the arc clearly defined.
Jiang Huaichu looked away, watching the bustling streets outside the curtain. After a while, he lowered his gaze again and looked at his belly.
He spent all twenty four hours of each day with it, watching it grow from nothing, bit by bit. Today, it was bigger than yesterday — more round, more distinct. Before he knew it, it had come this far.
He had read many medical texts. His belly was already larger than most would be at three months.
It was growing rapidly. Such a strange, miraculous feeling — full of life, with a little being inside constantly accompanying him.
A little thing that belonged to him alone.
At this rate, he wasn’t sure he could hold out even another half a month.
A faint smile unconsciously curled Jiang Huaichu’s lips. He poked at the bump with a long, pale finger. The little being seemed to retaliate immediately. A wave of nausea rose in his throat. Jiang Huaichu was used to it by now. He pursed his lips and swallowed it down. Once it passed, he muttered quietly, “Pretty cocky, aren’t you?”
The words seemed to remind him of something. His smile froze, then faded altogether. That teasing man with sharp eyebrows and bold, striking features also vanished from his mind.
Jiang Huaichu’s face turned expressionless.
It was as if he owed him something — even when that man no longer tormented him, he had left behind this little being to continue the job, to make sure he never forgot.
But what was the point in remembering? They were never going to meet again anyway.
…
Miluo Manor was within the borders of Nanruo, situated on Miluo Mountain not far from the capital. From the capital, it was only a two-hour carriage ride.
Because of the relationship between Miluo Manor and Nanruo, people from other nations could travel to the manor so long as they held a manor-issued token and passed a security check by the Nanruo guards to confirm they posed no threat to the country.
Even so, Miluo Manor’s spies kept a close watch on these individuals. If anyone showed malicious intent toward Nanruo, they would be eliminated on the spot.
This rule ensured that visitors from all nations behaved themselves. After all, they were on someone else’s turf — and Miluo Manor was infamous for its deadly assassins and secret agents.
These outsiders were only permitted to visit Miluo Manor. If they wished to enter the heavily guarded capital, they needed special approval from the capital’s government.
The carriage rumbled along a wide, smooth mountain road. Inside, Xiao Yun whistled roguishly and lifted the curtain to look at the lush scenery outside. “Young Master Xie, it’s been years since I last came here.”
Xie Zhe — Young Master Xie — looked at the overly cheerful Xiao Yun, who acted like they were out for a scenic countryside excursion, with a speechless expression.
He had tried to dissuade him, but not an hour after that, Xiao Yun had already announced in court that he would personally lead the army to conquer Nanruo. He had not expected this at all.
What he found even more unexpected was that after years of peace, civil officials clung to Xiao Yun’s leg, protesting that the nation could not go a day without its emperor and refusing to let him lead the campaign. Meanwhile, the military officials, whose thighs had grown soft with comfort, scrambled to polish their rusty weapons. The Ministry of War had begun pulling troops from various regions, vowing they could gather the army within two months and reach the Nanruo border in five — ready to show off the might of Great Ning.
After several days of arguments, the emperor had quickly arranged state affairs for the next six months, then snuck out of the capital with eight thousand elite soldiers to rush to Nanruo…
Leaving behind the civil officials, military commanders, and the entire army.
He could only imagine the horror on the court’s face the next day when they discovered the emperor was gone.
Xiao Yun had only brought him along, along with a few officials close to Xie Caiqing.
The younger ones managed, but Liu Yun, already advanced in age, had been tormented by the journey. After riding fast horses for over half a month, the saddle had chafed his backside until it blistered, scabbed, and blistered again — over and over — until it finally calloused. Still, they had made it to Nanruo in under a month.
Now, just to go up to the Miluo Manor, even the mere eight thousand elite soldiers had been left fifty miles outside the city by Xiao Yun—it really did seem like a leisure outing in the countryside.
But there were advantages. They had swiftly and silently reached Nanruo. Nanruo likely hadn’t even received word yet that Great Ning was planning to attack. The border wasn’t under martial law against Great Ning citizens. Otherwise, even in disguise like they were now, trying to reach Miluo Manor would be near impossible.
Xie Zhe said, “The first batch of fifty thousand cavalry from the capital should arrive in Nanruo in at most half a month. Since Your Majesty disappeared, they’re probably marching at full speed. The second batch might take a month, and the third wave of soldiers…”
Xiao Yun interrupted impatiently, “No rush, no rush. Eight thousand is enough.”
Xie Zhe cautiously reminded him, “Nanruo has over two hundred thousand troops…”
“I’m not here to fight a war!” Xiao Yun paused, then lazily added with a smile, “Of course, if I find Xie Caiqing along the way, conquering Nanruo wouldn’t be a bad idea either. That way I wouldn’t have to see Jiang Huaiyi’s annoying face again—best if he knelt before me and pledged allegiance.”
Xie Zhe was even more careful now. “But… only eight thousand troops…”
Xiao Yun frowned. “What’s the hurry? Didn’t you say the first batch will arrive in half a month at most? I’ll just stay at Miluo for half a month and wait. That’s my old ancestor’s territory, which means it’s my territory too. Would he not protect me? Doesn’t he have over two hundred thousand private soldiers? No matter how much he favors outsiders, now that I’ve come personally, he couldn’t possibly openly side with Nanruo, could he? Otherwise, how could he face the ancestors of Great Ning?”
Xie Zhe finally relaxed and let out a long breath. “Then how does Your Majesty plan to find Xie Caiqing?”
Xiao Yun replied lazily, “Isn’t Miluo known for its vast intelligence network? We’re just looking for one person—just ask my old ancestor. The most beautiful and capable person in Nanruo, closely tied to Jiang Huaiyi—how hard could that be to find?”
Xie Zhe froze, thinking to himself that he truly had been dull. With Miluo’s resources, finding Xie Caiqing was indeed a piece of cake.
“Hey—Xie Zhe, look,” Xiao Yun pointed out the carriage window. “Someone’s going up the mountain with us.”
Following Xiao Yun’s finger, Xie Zhe saw that traveling alongside them on the broad mountain road was a low-profile yet opulent carriage, also bearing the emblem of Miluo.
Judging by the horses’ coloring and build, they were top-quality steeds. The coachman was a sharp-featured, well-dressed young man. Whoever was inside that carriage had to be powerful and immensely wealthy.
Xiao Yun commented, “Wonder which nation’s noble is visiting my old ancestor for medicine.”
“No one could possibly out-rank Master Yun,” Xie Zhe said jokingly.
Just then, the carriages reached the narrowest section of the mountain road.
Several men in robes marked with the Miluo emblem stood on the innermost side of the road—likely stationed there to manage this dangerous stretch. They had proper appearances and began waving at both carriages from a distance, signaling them to stop.
Xie Zhe lifted the curtain. “Looks like the road’s too narrow for both carriages to pass.”
Xiao Yun said carelessly, “No worries, we’ll yield. As the great-grandson of the manor master, I should show some hospitality, no?”
“Your Majesty—”
“What?” Xiao Yun frowned. “They insist we go first?”
After all, his horses were even more valuable than the ones pulling the other carriage.
Xie Zhe, at a loss for words, lifted the left curtain completely.
The men outside, as if afraid they wouldn’t stop, had already run over waving desperately. Now, they formed a human wall blocking Xiao Yun’s carriage.
The smile vanished from Xiao Yun’s face, his expression turning dark.
Xie Zhe nervously tugged his sleeve. “My lord, it’s not worth it to fight over—”
“I will fight over it! D*mn it, are they blind?! Who do they think they’re looking down on?! I was going to yield, but now I refuse!” Xiao Yun shoved Xie Zhe aside, leaned out the left window, and shouted thunderously, “Hey! All of you, get over here!”
Inside the other carriage up ahead, Jiang Huaichu was softly reading the Analects to the child. His hand paused mid-page. A few seconds later, he chuckled—was he hallucinating from hearing that voice?
The carriage came to a slow stop.
Jiang Huaichu looked up and asked gently, “What’s the matter?”
The coachman, Ru Shi, lifted the curtain and replied flatly, “Some idiot noble from who-knows-where behind us is trying to cut in front. No worries, Wenxing and the others will handle it.”
“…I see,” Jiang Huaichu said.
Ru Shi let the curtain fall again.
On the other side, several men jogged over.
“Who do they think they’re looking down on? I’m going first!” Xiao Yun rested one arm over the window, pulling the curtain tie above his head. His posture was arrogant and imposing, the picture of unruly flair.
The men showed no hesitation or conflict. One of them, Wenxing, replied firmly, “No.”
Xiao Yun’s face darkened. “Can’t you see my horse is better than his?!”
Wenxing answered politely, “It’s not about the horse. That man is our old master’s honored guest.”
Xiao Yun froze, then gave a lazy laugh. “More honored than me?”
Wenxing said without a moment’s pause, “No one is more honored than him.”
Xiao Yun’s expression faltered. Furious, he took off the token from his waist and tossed it to Wenxing. Wenxing scrambled to catch it, glanced at it, and immediately changed his attitude, bowing deeply. “Ah, so it is the great-grandson of the old master.”
Xiao Yun raised a brow and glanced smugly at Xie Zhe, clearly pleased. He looked outside and said grandly, “Now can I go first?”
Wenxing waved his hand: “Block this side. Let the other side pass!”
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