Escorted from the Imperial Grandson’s residence in the southeastern corner of the Qin royal palace, Zhao Shu rode in the carriage Ying Wuji had provided. The journey carried her across nearly the entirety of Xianyang. Only after stepping down from the carriage did the icy night wind sweeping through the northern outskirts strike her like knives against her bones. She instinctively hunched her neck against the cold. The humiliation and panic she had felt earlier vanished in an instant.
“This way, Crown Prince Zhao.” The supervising official spoke with open contempt, a heavy iron whip in his hand as he led a squad of armored guards behind her.
He was a thin man in his thirties, sporting two narrow mustaches. A long scar ran straight across his left eye. Every so often, he casually cracked the whip through the empty air. He was clearly not a kind man.
The cold moon was already sinking in the west. It was well past midnight.
The stars shone brilliantly overhead. By their faint light, Zhao Shu could make out that the place was surrounded by mountains on three sides and faced a lake to the south. It was utterly desolate, not a single light could be seen, inly the distant howls of wild beasts echoed through the darkness.
The soldiers escorting her never laid a hand on her, yet each wore a grim, murderous expression. They were nothing like the attendants at the Imperial Grandson’s residence.
With barren mountains, withered grass, and endless wilderness stretching in every direction… For one fleeting moment, she truly felt these men had come not to imprison her, but to execute her.
The western outskirts of Pingcheng had been a valley much like this. She had witnessed firsthand those Qin soldiers who fought like ravenous wolves, utterly fearless of death.
Under the moonlight, the soldiers’ shadows stretched long behind her like ghosts.
In such a deserted place, Zhao Shu clenched her teeth. A powerful fear of death suddenly gripped her. Thinking of the person she had not seen for months, her eyes involuntarily reddened.
Ying Wuji had claimed the surrender letter was forged. Zhao Shu did not want to die.
Fortunately, the official soon led her to her destination. Yawning lazily, he remarked, “No serious criminal sent here has ever escaped. This place… there’s no getting out but you’re a person of noble status. My responsibility is a heavy one, so forgive the offense.”
Apparently exhausted, he finally shoved her lightly from behind. As soon as she stepped through the wooden barrier, he slammed a huge bronze padlock onto the gate with a loud clang.
Only after his footsteps faded into the distance did Zhao Shu calm herself enough to examine her surroundings.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness and the outlines gradually became clear, she frowned.
It was a crude shelter built against a mountainside, using a natural rock cave.
Or rather, it could hardly even be called a house.
The entrance through which she had come was the only exit. Uneven wooden posts had been driven into the rock overhead, forming little more than a gate. There wasn’t even a door to block the wind.
Several yards inside, where the cave wall curved inward, dried straw had been scattered across the ground. Upon it lay a dark, shapeless pile. Walking farther into the darkness, she finally saw what it was.
At the very back stood a broken chamber pot. Looking around once more confirmed that the straw was the only place anyone could sleep. The dark lump resting atop it was the bedding.
A violent blast of northern wind swept in. Standing before the barred entrance, Zhao Shu shivered.
Compared to the warm incense and luxurious comfort of the Imperial Grandson’s residence, this place was no different from the underworld.
Thinking back to the heated floors in that small courtyard only moments ago, she felt herself freezing to the core. Outside lay only vast, deserted mountains without a trace of human life. It felt as though this barren, merciless winter night was about to swallow her whole. Overwhelmed by desolation and dread, she hastily raised a hand to wipe her face.
This was no place for a person to live. It was worse than a dungeon.
As she shook out the damp, icy quilt, one foot stepped into freezing water. When she bent to remove her boot and examine the injury on her foot, a sharp pain shot through her wrist. In the faint moonlight, she could just make out a ring of bruises.
“A useless thing who only knows how to rely on your father and ancestors…”
“Couldn’t even tell that Zhao Wang’s seal was fake.”
Her eyelashes trembled. She let out two muffled whimpers before forcibly swallowing them down, her heart seized by an overwhelming sense of doubt.
The dim light was too weak to read the letter. Hugging her knees to her chest, she leaned against the mountain wall, wrapped herself in the filthy, damp quilt, and remained motionless, pretending to sleep.
Every inch of her body grew colder and colder. Especially her right foot, which had stepped into the puddle. The sole had already been rubbed raw, and now, soaked in icy water, it throbbed painfully before gradually going numb.
As the moon slowly sank below the horizon, Zhao Shu replayed the events of the past several years over and over in her mind. By then, her body had completely lost sensation.
When she raised a hand and touched the festering wound hidden beneath the disguise paste on her forehead, countless thoughts retreated from her mind. For the first time, she wondered, had she listened to her royal father’s advice back then and simply left those two hundred thousand soldiers to perish at Pingcheng, would she now be lying in a warm, soft bed instead?
She drifted in and out of consciousness through the night. The next day, as the slanting morning sun brightened, Zhao Shu was awakened by the deafening sounds of hammers and chisels striking stone. She forced her stiff body upright. After taking only two steps, an itch suddenly rose in her lungs. She immediately realized that she had probably fallen seriously ill.
At some point during the night, the bronze lock on the gate had been removed. Coughing all the while, she slowly made her way outside.
After walking only a few dozen paces, she turned toward the dazzling sunlight and saw dozens of men swinging hammers and chisels at the rock face in the mountain hollow.
They were the soldiers who had been sent into captivity alongside her! Lian Yu was among them.
Though it was the bitterest part of winter, every one of them was drenched in sweat.
The moment they saw Zhao Shu, they all cupped their fists in greeting, their expressions filled with surprise. Even reduced to such circumstances, they still addressed her with the utmost respect.
The supervising official came over, cracking his whip to drive them back to work. Yet when he reached Lian Yu, he merely cursed a few times before walking away, clearly somewhat wary of him.
Seeing Zhao Shu’s appearance, Lian Yu frowned even more deeply. The young man already carried the grief of his clan’s destruction. The two had known each other since childhood. For generations, the Lian family had controlled Zhao’s military power, making him one of the very few noble youths who had ever dared openly oppose Zhao Shu.
His features were naturally cold and severe. He often carried himself with a sinister arrogance, as though everyone else were beneath him. If not for the marriage ties between the Lian family and the royal Zhou house, Zhao Shu would never have liked someone like him.
Yet now…
In a foreign land, suffering together…
The very cold arrogance she had once disliked had somehow become a shield that made her feel safe. It even filled her with a sense of nostalgic comfort.
At noon, during the work break, Lian Yu sorted through the communal sleeping pallets and managed to free up two quilts, which he carried over to the cave where Zhao Shu was staying.
After finishing his hard, dry steamed bun, which was so tough it nearly broke his teeth, he heard her coughing grow worse and abruptly stood. “I’ll go fetch the physician.”
Zhao Shu immediately grabbed his sleeve. For perhaps the first time ever, an icy expression appeared on her refined face. “You followed the old general every day. Have you ever seen our king’s official seal?”
She spread open the handkerchief-letter personally entrusted to her by Zhao Wang and handed it to him between coughing fits.
Lian Yu remained silent for a long while. After only a single glance, he bent down and looked directly into her eyes. “The seals of all the feudal lords contain hidden engravings to verify authenticity. The hidden marking on Zhao Jian’s seal is in the upper-right corner. This one omits the hidden engraving entirely. Anyone who has ever seen a genuine feudal seal would recognize the forgery without even examining it closely.”
Zhao Shu gave a faint hum of acknowledgment. Lowering her eyes, she stared at the familiar handwriting of her royal father upon the silk handkerchief, while waves of emotion surged inside her.
It was a secret letter in which Zhao Wang promised Qin Wang two cities in exchange for her return six months later.
If the seal was forged and so poorly forged that Qin Wang could see through it at a glance then the true purpose of this letter…
“…Young Master. My uncle, before he passed away, asked me to tell you… The Queen and the King…had a son last year.”
Lian Yu knew many things. Aside from Zhao Shu’s true identity, there were many matters that, as an outsider, he saw more clearly than she did.
Old General Lian had originally instructed him not to tell her. Young Master Shu was sincere to a fault and still far too innocent. Whatever schemes needed arranging, the Lian family and the Zhou royal house would handle. Telling her might only complicate matters.
But under the current circumstances, Lian Yu no longer cared whether the timing was appropriate. Cruel though it was, he felt it was finally time for her to wake up.
….
What Lian Yu had never expected was that this once-vigorous young nobleman, despite having grown up in luxury and privilege, possessed such a frail constitution.
From that day onward, Zhao Shu never managed to get out of bed again.
First, the vicious supervising official unexpectedly delivered a brazier of charcoal to her. Then, on the third day, Qi Ying, having recovered from her own illness, was sent back, carrying several packets of herbal medicine for dispelling cold and treating sickness.
Yet even with the brazier keeping her warm, and despite Qi Ying’s devoted care for two full days, Zhao Shu’s condition only worsened. Her cough eased somewhat, only to be replaced by a raging fever.
Not until after the midday meal on the fifth day did she slowly awaken. The moment she opened her eyes, she found herself looking into Qi Ying’s pale, exhausted round face.
Seeing that Zhao Shu had awakened, Qi Ying immediately burst into tears. The little girl became so flustered that she could barely form complete sentences. In the end, she simply buried her face against Zhao Shu’s neck and sobbed. Lifting tear-filled eyes streaked with bloodshot veins, she carefully used her cold fingers to smooth the tangled hair away from Zhao Shu’s face.
“Yingying… your fever’s gone?” Zhao Shu touched her own smooth face in confusion.
“Face… injured… no one comes…” Qi Ying stammered as she explained that she had removed the disguise paste from Zhao Shu’s face because no one ever came to this place to disturb them. Before she could finish, hurried footsteps suddenly approached from outside.
Zhao Shu immediately shifted deeper into the shadows. A panicked voice shouted, “Lian… Young General Lian has been detained! They’re going to sentence him to seventy strokes of the military cane!”
The moment Qi Ying heard the news, she panicked completely.
After calming her down, Zhao Shu hurriedly reapplied her disguise then she rushed toward the open area in the mountain hollow. There, amidst the snow and ice, Lian Yu had already been stripped to the waist and suspended from a punishment post on a raised platform. His back had been beaten into a bloody ruin.
When she heard the soldier wielding the cane shout, “Twelve!”, she immediately realized this was no ordinary beating. They intended to kill him. Summoning the last of her strength, she stepped forward and grasped the side of the execution frame.
She had not even spoken. when the soldier halted his swing.
“So, I never imagined that the famous Crown Prince Zhao, renowned throughout Handan would be so young.”
A rough, gravelly voice sounded. Zhao Shu abruptly looked up. Before her stood a towering man clad in bronze chain armor with a heavy sword at his waist. His build was powerfully muscular, his features coarse and rugged. Yet beneath those tiger-like eyes shone unmistakable intelligence and authority.
“It was Young Lord Yi who first insulted the innocent members of my Lian clan!” Lian Yu roared, his eyes blood-red. At those words, Zhao Shu instantly understood the identity of the man standing before her.
Prince Yi, the fourth son of Qin Wang, was born to the elder sister of Qi Wang. Distinguished by great military achievements, he was deeply favored by Qin Wang.
He was also the one who had ordered their execution on the day the people of Zhao entered the city.
Zhao Shu knew nothing of Qin’s internal politics. She had no idea that Ying Yi resented her because his proposal to destroy Zhou had been rebuked. She simply assumed that he had come again, brimming with murderous intent, to finish her off.
Freshly recovered from a grave illness, with the past seeming almost dreamlike, she nevertheless sensed with startling clarity that taking one more step forward meant standing on the edge between life and death. Her fingers tightened into fists.
Prince Yi was different from that man. This man wanted far more than her life alone.
Ying Yi glared at her for a long moment. His long beard quivered before he suddenly burst into hearty laughter. “Bring a table! Serve wine! This prince shall drink with Crown Prince Zhao!”
Her fingernails dug deep into her palms. Anyone with eyes could see the sickness still lingering on her face. It seemed today’s affair would not end peacefully.
…
Thin curls of smoke rose from the bronze incense burner shaped like an auspicious beast.
The fragrance of sandalwood drifted through the mouths of the carved creatures like floating clouds at sunset. Beyond the haze sat Ying Wuji, his long hair loosely tied back. Three fingers of his right hand swept across the strings, and the qin sang like mountain springs pouring down a valley.
A peerless gentleman.
Yet what occupied his thoughts was only this…
When would Grandfather finally depose Royal Uncle?
Suddenly, Cheng Wu rushed in at full speed. Before even passing through the curtains, he shouted, “Disaster, Imperial Grandson! Prince Yi invited the hostage prince to drink, but midway through the banquet he suddenly flew into a rage. They’ve tied him up at the gap beside the lake!”
The music stopped abruptly.
Ying Wuji had planted secret agents in the quarry and knew its terrain intimately. Barren cliffs surrounded it on all sides, with only a single narrow mountain path guarded day and night by elite soldiers. It was, in truth, an escape-proof prison even harsher than Xianyang’s death cells.
Especially in winter. The valley beside the lake formed a natural wind funnel. Even on calm days, the wind howled ceaselessly there. Now, in the twelfth lunar month, the gale was so fierce it seemed capable of piercing straight into one’s lungs.
He rose at once, paced twice, then ordered Cheng Wu to recount every detail.
Only then did he learn that Old Qin Wang’s mother had originally been nothing more than the maidservant of a Zhou concubine. By the original genealogy, she and Zhao Shu truly belonged to the same generation. Later, as Qin grew powerful, the Son of Heaven of Zhou had personally amended the family register, recognizing the maidservant as his adopted younger sister and altering the royal lineage.
Because of his lower generation, Ying Wuji had never heard this before.
Apparently, Prince Yi had used precisely that point to trap Crown Prince Shu with clever rhetoric.
“Imperial Grandson,” Cheng Wu reminded him cautiously, “when I left, the hostage prince already didn’t look well.”
His eyes secretly darted toward his master’s face.
That night… Through the paper window, he had seen everything clearly. At first, the two had stood with their foreheads nearly touching then they had somehow become entangled against the table.
Afterward, the Imperial Grandson flew into a rage and ordered Zhao Shu sent to the quarry as punishment.
At the time, Crown Prince Zhao had worn an expression of terror and grief, with faint red marks still visible on his cheeks.
Even using his toes to think, Cheng Wu believed he knew exactly what had happened.
Who could have imagined, the Imperial Grandson actually had that sort of preference.
As his thoughts wandered, Ying Wuji calmly returned to his couch and said in an unreadable tone, “Crown Prince Zhao must remain alive for now. Go ask Mother to intervene. Remember to repeat every single word Royal Uncle said just now, without omitting a single one.”
Having finished speaking, he resumed playing the qin.
Cheng Wu grumbled inwardly but dared say nothing. He hurried away immediately.
An hour later, he returned carrying a message delivered by carrier pigeon. “Prince Yi has left. He only ordered that the hostage remain standing there until dawn.”
Ying Wuji merely responded with a faint, “Oh.” Glancing at the water clock as it marked the beginning of the Shen hour, he dismissed Cheng Wu before the latter could continue talking and walked straight toward the study.
Outside, Cheng Wu hugged his sword beneath the corridor, wrapping his robe tighter around himself, anxious as an ant on a hot stove.
One thought kept grinding through his mind uncontrollably.
With Crown Prince Zhao’s frail body, he probably won’t survive the night. But if the Young Lord truly has such… tastes… then once Crown Prince Zhao dies, won’t I be the one in danger?
One stick of incense later.
Cheng Wu was still standing beneath the corridor, absentmindedly stroking his own fairly decent-looking face while worrying about how to protect himself in the future, when a tall figure suddenly strode past him.
“I-Imperial Grandson?”
Ying Wuji’s crown was neatly fastened. Without even turning his head, he ordered, “Bring Chiji. We’re going to the northern outskirts.”
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