The First Kiss

The next day, just as Liu Mingyi had predicted, a thunderstorm raged across the sky, pouring down torrential rain. Deafening thunder echoed over the Forbidden City. This precise prediction thoroughly convinced Emperor Chongzhen, who summoned him for private discussions in the Western Warm Pavilion for three consecutive days.

Emperor Chongzhen proposed a strategy of both suppression and appeasement, stating, “The bandits have coerced a hundred thousand starving peasants into following them. If we kill them all, it will weaken the foundation of the nation.” He instructed Liu Mingyi to follow the approach of “executing the ringleaders while pardoning the coerced followers.” Liu Mingyi understood the Emperor’s concerns—elite troops had to be reserved to fight the Qing forces beyond the Great Wall, and dividing the rebels’ strength would ease the burden on the imperial court.

Three days later, at dawn, the Hall of Supreme Harmony was filled with gathered officials standing in solemn silence.

Emperor Chongzhen personally handed a gilded imperial sword to Liu Mingyi. “Liu Yan, I appoint you Minister of War and Deputy Censor-in-Chief, overseeing military affairs in the provinces of Shaanxi, Shanxi, and Henan. You are granted full authority to make independent decisions.”

The court erupted in murmurs. According to the Ming dynasty’s regulations, a grand coordinator had the power to command and deploy troops from various garrisons. However, Liu Mingyi’s authority clearly exceeded the usual scope.

The Emperor continued, “Apart from Sun Chuanting’s forces stationed in Liaodong, all nine frontier garrisons shall obey Liu Mingyi’s command.” This statement effectively placed half of the empire’s military power in Liu Mingyi’s hands. Ministers were visibly stunned, whispering among themselves.

Seeing the reaction, Emperor Chongzhen raised his hand slightly, signaling for silence. His gaze swept across the officials, his tone firm and resolute. “Gentlemen, the Great Ming faces both internal and external crises. Bandits ravage the land, and Qing forces press upon our borders—the situation is as precarious as an egg on the edge of a blade. In extraordinary times, extraordinary men must be used. My decision to appoint Liu Mingyi is not impulsive; there are many reasons behind it.”

“First, though Mingyi was born into a humble background, his ancestor Liu De was a direct disciple of the esteemed Grand Tutor Liu Ji. He has studied the ‘I Ching’ since childhood. His military strategy for the Shaanxi campaign aligns perfectly with frontline reports, proving his remarkable intellect.”

Hearing this, some ministers nodded slightly, their doubts easing.

“Second, our founding emperor, the Great Ancestor, once declared that Grand Tutor Liu Ji was a divinely gifted strategist. He prophesied that the descendants of Liu De might one day turn the tide of disaster. This is a divine will that cannot be ignored.”

The ministers were taken aback, exchanging hushed discussions.

“Third, Mingyi’s ability to predict the weather is also a sign of divine favor. When I ordered him to forecast the weather, he declared: ‘The wind will rise at the hour of the Tiger, clouds will gather at the hour of the Dragon, and heavy rain will fall precisely at three-quarters past noon.’ The storm unfolded exactly as he predicted. This is evidence of heaven’s guidance, which we must heed.”

Emperor Chongzhen’s tone grew even more solemn. “In times of great crisis, great men must be used. Liu Mingyi’s talents may very well be the lifeline heaven has bestowed upon our Ming dynasty. I hope all of you will set aside concerns of his background and fully support him for the sake of the nation.”

Liu Mingyi was not left to command alone. The military training across various regions was already in progress, and troops were being assembled. While preparing to secure military funds, Liu Mingyi temporarily resided at the Huitong Inn outside the Donghua Gate. This imperial hostel usually accommodated foreign envoys.

In a western chamber, he sat studying The Art of War with furrowed brows. The candlelight illuminated the golden embroidery on his imperial-bestowed robe. Compared to his previous plain scholar’s attire, he now carried an air of command and authority. His face bore a never-before-seen solemnity as he focused on the pages before him.

The battlefield was ever-changing. Predictions and weather forecasts alone were far from sufficient. In this time of national peril, he could only forge ahead with determination and fight for the survival of the Ming dynasty.

Nearby, a maidservant was grinding ink for him, occasionally sneaking glances at him. She was captivated by his focused expression, momentarily lost in thought. His sharply defined side profile and deep, steady gaze carried an undeniable charm. This Supreme Commander was not only exceptionally talented but also strikingly handsome—no wonder the Emperor valued him so highly.

By the time Liu Mingyi closed The Art of War, it was late at night, and the oil in the lamp was nearly exhausted. He rubbed his tired eyes and moved toward his bedroom, habitually untying his outer robe and draping it over the screen.

Suddenly, he froze.

In the darkness, the sound of steady breathing reached his ears.

He struck a flint and lit the oil lamp. In the flickering light, he finally saw—Wei Lan!

She was slumped over the Eight Immortals table, fast asleep. Her hair was disheveled, with loose strands falling over her cheeks.

Liu Mingyi stood motionless. The voice from Twin Cypress Village—”Brother Mingyi”—echoed in his mind. He had thought it was just an illusion, but was this scene before him another mirage? Only when a cold draft crept down his collar did he snap back to reality, realizing that the window was wide open. He hurriedly walked over and secured the latch.

Turning back, he saw that Wei Lan had woken up. She rubbed her eyes and smiled. “Brother Mingyi, you’re finally back! I’ve been waiting for you all day!”

“You… waited for me?” Liu Mingyi’s voice trembled slightly, as if he could hardly believe it.

Wei Lan nodded and quickly explained how she had been captured by imperial guards in Changsha and only then discovered that she was a princess. She had since been confined in the palace, unable to step outside.

Liu Mingyi finally processed it—she was real! Not a figment of his imagination. He grasped her shoulders, scrutinizing her from head to toe. Her dress had traces of dust, and a dried leaf clung to her hair. “How did you get out?”

Wei Lan chuckled. “Huan Ying helped me climb the wall.”

She pulled him down to sit, eagerly recounting her experiences in the capital. She spoke of her research, explaining how months of failed attempts in Changsha had finally led to the discovery of a promising strain of green mold in Beijing. Despite being under house arrest, the princess supported her work, allowing her to continue her studies.

As she animatedly spoke, Liu Mingyi listened with rapt attention, his lips curving into a faint smile. He nodded occasionally, responding in agreement.

Midway through her tale, she noticed his gaze and blushed. “Brother Mingyi, why are you in the capital? What does the Emperor want from you?”

“The Emperor assigned me to the front lines. They need medical officers.” He deliberately omitted the part about his military command, not wanting to worry her.

“You’re going to war?” Wei Lan shot up from her seat. “Absolutely not! The battlefield is dangerous—swords and arrows are indiscriminate—” Her voice broke off, fingers gripping the table edge as she recalled the gruesome wounds she had treated in Changsha. Tears welled in her eyes.

Liu Mingyi reassured her. “I’ll only be treating the wounded, not fighting. I’ll write to you regularly to let you know I’m safe.”

She stared at the flickering flame, silent. She knew imperial decrees couldn’t be refused. They had only just reunited in Beijing, and now they were to be separated again.

Liu Mingyi added softly, “I’ll be fine. Wait for me.”

Wei Lan twisted her fingers in her sleeve and murmured, “How long?” Her red-rimmed eyes lifted. “By the time you return, I might already be married to the heir of the Marquis of Xiangcheng.”

Liu Mingyi’s fingers tensed. His voice remained calm. “Li Guozhen’s son?”

Wei Lan nodded. “I fell off a cliff escaping that engagement. If you hadn’t rescued me from the river…”

Liu Mingyi’s expression darkened momentarily before smoothing into composure. “If you don’t want to marry him, I’ll find a way.”

“How?”

He simply smiled. “Leave it to me. Just focus on your research and wait for me.”

And then came their first kiss.