Chapter 9: The Guards

No one from the Wei family or the other two families even glanced in the direction of the Feng family.

Old Madam Feng, feeling embarrassed, quickly shut her mouth. She picked up a bowl of noodles and sat back down next to the fire, coaxing and feeding her beloved little grandson—the chubby child who had nearly snatched the sausages from Wei Jiayan earlier.

Both the Marquis’s residence and the Wei family had once stood high above others, and this was the first time Wei Yunlan had encountered such fallen nobility. She furrowed her brows and, sitting next to Wei Maolin, quietly asked, “Father, what offenses have those families committed?”

“Both the Liang family and the Feng family were implicated in the palace sorcery case 5 years ago. As for the specific crimes committed by Lord Liang, I do not know. However, his wife is the Empress Dowager’s niece. When the Virtuous Consort pleaded on his behalf, the Empress Dowager also interceded. In the end, we were spared execution, and the emperor commuted our sentence to exile in Beiguan.”

“As for the Feng family… Lord Feng was an Assistant Minister at the Imperial Academy. It’s said that some of the items related to the sorcery case were leaked from the Grand Temple through his hands.”

Wei Maolin himself had been wrongly accused, so he refrained from passing judgment on the Feng and Liang families. He only sighed with regret when he mentioned the Bai family.

“Old Madam Bai has two sons, both of whom served in the northwest army—one a guerrilla general, the other a garrison commander. News arrived yesterday that the northwest army suffered a defeat. Because General Bai delayed issuing military orders, three thousand soldiers were surrounded by the Xiliang army, and none survived.”

The commander of the northwest army was the younger brother of Consort Ling from the palace. Not only Wei Maolin, but most in the capital believed that General Bai had taken the blame for General Ling.

But General Bai’s two brothers had already died on the battlefield, and with no surviving witnesses, the truth died with them. In the end, the blame fell squarely on his shoulders. It was truly pitiful for Old Madam Bai and the women and children of her family—not only grieving lost loved ones, but also suffering the hardship of exile.

Wei Yunlan’s gaze passed over the crackling campfire and landed on the Bai family not far away.

Among the four families, they were the most lightly equipped. With more than ten people, they carried only three bundles—likely just bedding and clothes. If they’d had any food, they wouldn’t be sitting there eating hard black buns and drinking cold water.

Sigh. How unjust the world is.

Good generals like General Bai die in battle, wrapped in horsehide, their grievances buried with them.

Loyal officials like my father speak for righteousness, only to be imprisoned and exiled.

If this is the fate of those who speak out or defend the realm, who will dare to fight bravely at the borders? Who will dare to speak truth to the court?

At this rate, where will we find capable people to safeguard the Great Yong Dynasty?

No wonder that, in my past life, ten years later, the northern barbarians’ cavalry trampled through the capital with barely any resistance!

In that life, I had only heard of the Liang family among these three.

It seems the others, like the Wei family, either perished on the road to exile or struggled to survive for years in the northern frontier, with no chance to rise again.

As for the Liang family—whom I’d only heard about…

In my previous life, when Xue Linglong and Chen Feng were transporting military supplies to Beiguan, it was the Liang family who arranged the rendezvous.

Now, I deeply suspect: was the Liang family’s supposed involvement in the sorcery case five years ago real? Or was it part of a far-reaching scheme?

The night deepened, and the moon hung high.

After a day of unrest, and at last setting foot on the road to exile, the Wei family found a strange sense of peace—being together.

Even their sleep was deeper than it had ever been at home.

In the quiet camp, the soft chorus of snoring filled the air.

Wei Mingxuan had long since fallen into a deep sleep. Wei Jiayan, struggling to keep his eyes open, nestled against Wei Yunlan, listening to her gently tell a story.

As he listened, he yawned deeply.

In the blur between waking and sleep, he mumbled with longing, “I wish Father were here too.”

Wei Yunlan’s tender gaze faltered for a moment.

“Auntie, will Father come to the North to find us?” he asked softly.

“He will. Now sleep,” Wei Yunlan replied, gently patting the blanket over him.

Finally, Jiayan couldn’t fight off his exhaustion any longer and drifted into sleep.

But Wei Yunlan couldn’t sleep.

Her elder brother, Wei Mingyi, had been sent to supervise the riverbanks in Tanzhou last year. Just last month, the dike collapsed, and he was swept away by the floodwaters. His fate remained uncertain.

Wei Yunlan knew the Duke of Xu’s household had been searching for him for over a month now. Even in her previous life, after ten full years, they had never found any trace of Wei Mingyi.
 It was likely that by now… his fate had already been sealed.

At the thought, she could no longer lie still. She reached into her sleeve, feeling the dagger bound tightly to her forearm, and quietly stood.

“Miss?” Tingxue, who was lying beside her, immediately sat up.

“I’m just going to find a place,” Wei Yunlan replied softly.

“I’ll go with you,” Tingxue offered, rubbing her eyes and rising quickly.

Wei Yunlan led her to a spot near the woods. “You stay here and keep watch. I’ll walk a bit farther ahead. Don’t worry—if anything happens, I’ll call out.”

Tingxue, not as observant as Ningshuang, assumed her mistress simply wanted more privacy.

“Miss, I’ll keep an eye out. If anyone comes, I’ll call you.”

“Alright. Thank you, Xue,” Wei Yunlan said with a smile, then walked several paces farther into the woods.

Once she was certain no one could see her, she reached under her robe and withdrew a token engraved with the words “Tianshu.”

She waited quietly for several breaths.

Then, from the treetops ahead, came a soft rustle.

Looking up, she saw a slender figure dressed in dark clothing perched high in the branches. The figure met her gaze and gave a respectful nod.

One of the bodyguards she had hired with the 2,500 taels of silver.

Tianshu Pavilion truly kept its word.

The figure had been concealed in the tree, four or five zhang high, without making a sound all night. Their skill was clearly extraordinary.

From the silhouette, it looked like a woman. Perhaps, fearing potential impropriety or mishap, the Pavilion had deliberately assigned a female bodyguard to watch over her during the night.

Now reassured, Wei Yunlan returned to camp and, at last, drifted into light sleep.

Though the night air carried a breeze, the weather near the capital was still warm. Sleeping under the stars wasn’t too hard to bear.

This time, Wei Yunlan slept more soundly than she had in a long while.

She awoke to the gentle shake of Ningshuang, who had already tidied up the bedding.

“Miss, it’s time to get ready to depart,” she whispered.

Around her, others were rising too. Madam Gao and Granny Wang were warming the flatbreads from the capital over the last flickering embers of the fire.

Wei Yunlan stood and joined them in preparing for the day.

Just then, Gui Xiang, whom Madame Gao had assigned to care for Cheng Yue’e and little Jiarong, hurried over with a worried look on her face.

“The Eldest Madam caught a chill last night. She didn’t want to disturb everyone, so she didn’t say anything, but now she’s burning with fever. Her forehead is scorching hot!”