Chapter 60

“General, a letter.”

He Xuan was pouring sand out of his boots when he heard the words. He took the envelope from Li Yuan’s hand with an air of indifference.

Li Yuan was sweating profusely, having rushed from the post station to the military camp, under the scorching sun. The horse was panting continuously from running, just like Li Yuan, who was panting heavily, staring at He Xuan, trying to guess from his expression what the contents of the letter from the capital might be.

Under the city tower, Mo Yin raised his hand and lightly patted He Xuan’s back.

He Xuan felt the gentle force, and his mind couldn’t help but sway. As long as Mo Yin agreed to go back to the border with him, he wouldn’t care about anything else. He would take Mo Yin to the border and then plead guilty to the emperor.

Mo Yin said, “General, blades have no eyes.”

He Xuan’s heart skipped a beat. Then he heard Mo Yin say, “Take care.”

After that, Mo Yin pushed him away firmly.

The armor was heavy, making a dull sound.

As He Xuan stepped back, he looked into Mo Yin’s eyes, cold and devoid of warmth.

The two of them stood there, locking eyes. The cold wind blew, and the shadow of the city tower quietly enveloped them.

Mo Yin glanced at He Xuan one last time, his eyelashes falling, then he stepped back, and his fox fur coat traced a silver arc behind him.

He Xuan stood still until Mo Yin’s figure completely disappeared from his sight. Then He Xuan slowly returned to his horse, mounted it, and rejoined the ranks. Li Yuan stared at him with eyes almost popping out of his head. He Xuan’s expression had returned to normal. “Let’s go.”

Returning to the border, a year had passed. It was a year of loss.

With the strategist gone from the army, although the Bright Army was leaderless, they didn’t panic. They had their own set of rules. He Xuan granted them special permission to continue as usual. With Mo Yin and Zhou Yong gone, another vice-general took their place, still standing alone in the camp.

He Xuan unfolded the letter and quickly scanned its contents before closing it.

Li Yuan tentatively looked at him. “General?”

He Xuan’s face remained expressionless as he put the sand-filled boots back on. “To the Night City.”

After the territories occupied by the Barbarian Tribe were reclaimed, Mo Yin said that if they relied solely on the military to hold the land, it would eventually be lost again. So, a new city was built on the spot, with various favorable policies to attract residents from other cities.

The city had been completed last year, and many people had already moved in.

He Xuan took a look around the city. It was well-equipped, built around the Changdeng River, with ample irrigation and fertile land. It was currently the season of abundant fruits, and the city was filled with the fragrance of fruits.

By the Changdeng River, many people were enjoying the coolness. He Xuan stood under a tree, looking out over the river. The golden light shimmered on the water, with ripples sparkling.

“When the harvest comes next year, let’s pick fruits and make wine together, shall we?”

“If the General is willing to make a move, I, Zigui, will certainly accompany.”

With a slight smile, He Xuan looked into the distance, memories flooding back. The corners of his mouth slowly straightened out.

In just half a year, Mo Yin had risen to become the Minister of Revenue.

From an Assistant Minister to a Minister, it seemed like just a step, but the difficulties were far from over.

A Minister of Revenue at the age of twenty-nine was truly astonishing.

There were still former subordinates of He Qingsong in the court. He Xuan had never relied on his father’s favor in his official career. After returning to the border, he only sent one letter to his father, hoping he could help make connections. That was how he managed to stay informed of the news from the capital.

Late at night, He Xuan often recalled the past three years.

Perhaps Mo Yin had initially planned to earn military merits to return to the court. He thought about the fake portrait, the indistinguishable words and seals on it, about the strict and fatalistic messages on the walls of the prison…

As he thought about these things, they slowly faded from his mind.

He remembered their first meeting, drinking on the city tower, the setting sun like blood, exchanging swords as gifts. He also remembered them racing horses in the desert, Mo Yin urging his horse forward, turning back with a smile. What he thought about the most was the scene of the two of them fighting side by side on the battlefield, entrusting their backs to each other.

He missed Mo Yin, very much.

But he didn’t know if Mo Yin in the capital ever thought of him. Did he ever think about these three years at the border?

—

Inside the pavilion by the lake, lights were bright, music played, and people danced gracefully. Wine flowed freely, and amidst the laughter and chatter, inevitably, some intimate words were exchanged.

“That sycophantic scoundrel always knows how to butter up to others. Just by putting on a good face, he’s managed to gain such favor with the Emperor.”

“The Emperor fell ill a few days ago, and he actually asked for permission to enter the palace to personally attend to His Majesty. It’s really nauseating.”

“On the court, using means of harem intrigue is simply a disgrace!”

“…And it seems to be getting more and more excessive.”

Each person spoke with disdain on their face. Drinking until late at night, the banquet concluded, and they bid farewell behind the courtyard gates, each boarding their respective carriages.

After the carriage swayed for an unknown duration, it finally stopped. The carriage curtain was lifted. “Master Zhang, we have arrived.” With bleary eyes, Zhang reached out for assistance, stumbling out of the carriage. After a few unsteady steps, he sat down. “Someone, bring me a bowl of sobering tea.”

Silence surrounded him.

With narrowed eyes from inebriation, Zhang glimpsed a hint of blue, leaning towards cyan, in the narrow field of vision under the dim light. It shone with the characteristic gleam of silk. Zhang squinted again, feeling incredibly thirsty. “Tea…”

“Is everyone deaf? Master Zhang asked for tea.”

A clear voice entered his ears, accompanied by a cool sensation on his face as cold water was splashed onto him. Zhang jolted awake, his drunkenness dissipating instantly. He opened his eyes to realize he wasn’t indoors but in a courtyard. Ahead of him, a person was lounging with legs crossed, their green outer robe slightly slipping to reveal a pair of black boots adorned with intricate golden cloud patterns. Looking up further, the person had a fair complexion, with eyes lowered as they lightly blew on a bowl of tea in their hands.

“Master Zhang,” those eyes lifted, “if the tea isn’t enough, I still have some here.”

—

In a few days, someone in the court accused several individuals of forming cliques and slandering the emperor, provoking his wrath. He immediately ordered them to be brought to the Dali Temple for interrogation. After the Dali Temple’s investigation, the case was handed over to the Ministry of Justice for review. The former Minister of Justice, Wei Dongting, had been banished and exiled during the Strict Party case. Shortly after taking over the case, the new Minister of Justice, Ge Qifeng, submitted a report accusing the Dali Temple’s magistrate of sheltering the accused.

This case shocked the court and the public, involving a wide range of people. From summer until the following spring, nearly two hundred officials who had been demoted or rehabilitated after the Strict Party case were involved. Finally, in March, the dust settled.

The magistrate of the Dali Temple, Qing Shi and Xing was demoted to serve as a magistrate in Hotai. The others were punished or demoted. After the Strict Party case, the once-powerful Tongfeng Party also lost its momentum and gradually faded away.

As the peach blossoms bloomed in the spring, there was a vibrant display in the Imperial Garden. However, the emperor seemed somewhat disinterested. “Zigui, does everyone in this world have selfish motives? All I want is their loyalty, why is it so difficult?”

“The emperor has the world in his heart, but we are just ordinary people. Master Shi has many sons and daughters, and he inevitably has to consider them more.”

The emperor smiled, “Speaking of sons and daughters, Zigui, you are already at the age of maturity. Why don’t you have someone special in the harem? I think Zhao Qianming’s eldest daughter is quite good. What do you think?”

Mo Yin bowed respectfully, clearing his throat. “I am ashamed, I have suffered from illness in the past, and my health has always been poor.” He raised his head slightly, a faint smile on his pale face. “To be able to return to the capital and serve the emperor with my broken body is already a great blessing. I dare not aspire to the noble ladies of the capital.”

“Did I not send imperial physicians to take care of you? Why hasn’t your health improved? Is it because those old men are not doing their best?”

“Please don’t blame the imperial physicians, Your Majesty,” Mo Yin smiled bitterly. “I know my own body.”

The emperor sighed lightly, patting Mo Yin’s arm. “You…” He walked forward as he spoke, “The Dali Temple, the Ministry of Justice, and the Imperial Censorate each have their own problems. I think it’s better to find someone trustworthy to help keep an eye on the officials. Zigui, you have trained troops at the border, so come and help me keep an eye on them.”

Mo Yin’s bowed body remained respectful and steady. “I accept the decree.”

At the palace gate, Zhou Yong had been waiting for a long time. Seeing Mo Yin come out, he immediately helped him put on his cloak and handed him a hand warmer.

As Mo Yin entered the carriage, the icy cold of the hand warmer finally brought a hint of warmth to his chilled hands. He cleared his throat, feeling a dull ache deep in his lungs.

“Master,” Zhou Yong drove the horse ahead, whispering, “Would you like to review the letter?”

“Bring it to me.”

“It’s in the box on your left.”

Mo Yin opened the box to find an unsealed letter. After reading it, he said, “Chen Cong’s words have become more cautious.”

“Who dares to criticize the Master in the court now?” Zhou Yong’s tone was proud.

Mo Yin remained noncommittal and placed the letter back.

He had been keeping an eye on him all this time. Every month, without fail, Chen Cong would send letters to inquire about his well-being.

Was it out of resentment for using him and then kicking him away? Or was it because of something else…?

The carriage swayed gently as Mo Yin held the hand warmer to his chest, his chin resting on top, taking a deep breath of the warm air.

It was already springtime in March, but his hands and feet were still icy cold, and his lungs often stung. Especially at night, he coughed so much that he could hardly sleep, and his illness was becoming more apparent on his face. The imperial physicians had come to check his pulse several times, and their words were always similar: his body was too weak, and he needed careful recuperation.

The eight times he spent in the Eighth Court at the Ministry of Justice and the torment he suffered on the way to exile had dealt devastating blows to his body. Even during these years at the border, fighting on the battlefield had caused further damage. If it weren’t for a shred of mental strength supporting him, perhaps his body would have given out long ago.

A surge of blood rushed to his chest, and Mo Yin coughed heavily twice. Zhou Yong, driving the horse ahead, heard Mo Yin’s suppressed coughing and furrowed his brow slightly.

In the year he had spent in the capital, the military strategist’s health had deteriorated.

Others might not understand deeply, but Zhou Yong, who served him closely, could keenly feel Mo Yin’s changes. He ate much less than before, felt colder, and his already pale face always looked sickly. With such poor health, he still managed to strategize in the capital, manipulating situations behind the scenes, stirring up storms in the court, and yet he remained untouched, basking in the emperor’s favor.

Whether in the border army or the court in the capital, Zhou Yong felt that Mo Yin was like a mythical figure in the clouds. Could there truly be things that a military strategist couldn’t accomplish?

The carriage arrived, and Mo Yin got out. He said to Zhou Yong, “Send the letter.”

Zhou Yong acknowledged, “Yes,” and watched as Mo Yin entered the mansion, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness for him.

No one dared to provoke the military strategist in the entire capital now. Yet, only a light letter, as light as a feather, showed genuine concern for the military strategist, from thousands of miles away…

Midway through each month, He Xuan would receive letters from the capital. From month to month, he learned that Mo Yin had been promoted from Minister of Revenue to Chancellor, holding the Imperial Commands Office, which was independent of the Three Departments, under his command. He reported directly to the emperor, holding considerable power and the authority to act without prior approval.

After putting away the letters, He Xuan turned back to the campfire and drank with the soldiers.

After drinking for a while, someone suddenly asked, “General, where did the military strategist go?”

During the Mountain City rebellion, they had stayed at the border and knew nothing about what had happened. The soldiers of the Fire and Confusion Army were always reticent, and others had never spoken much about it. He was drunk and couldn’t help but ask. They all missed that ghostly military strategist.

He Xuan took a sip of wine and said, “He ascended to immortality.”

Back in the tent, He Xuan took down the shining soft sword from the weapon rack. His eyes were as deep as ever, and he danced with the sword under the lamp. In the shadows of the dancing sword, his mind was filled with the figure of that person.

He wanted to see him.

He wanted to go to the capital to see him.

He Xuan let out a deep sigh and put away the sword, gazing at it.

He had his own aspirations to fulfill, and so did the other person.

Their paths diverged, and that was how it had to be. He wished for each other’s wishes to come true, and they should take care of themselves.

Time passed like flowing water, and in the blink of an eye, He Xuan had been away from the capital for three years.

In these three years, it seemed to have passed quickly, but it also seemed unbearable. He had reached the age of maturity, and each letter from home urged him to return and marry. He had never replied, nor had he ever left the border.

Today, there was another letter.

“General, urgent letter—”

He Xuan took the water pouch and his handsome face revealed a restrained aura of killing intent. “From home?”

“No, it’s an urgent letter from the capital.”

He Xuan’s expression froze, tossing aside the water pouch and snatching the letter. As he opened it and read its contents, his pupils suddenly contracted.

Li Yuan was a bit anxious and asked, “What’s wrong, General? Did something happen to the military strategist?”

Clutching the letter in his hand, He Xuan’s mind was roaring.

As the letter fluttered down, Li Yuan quickly picked it up and exclaimed when he saw the line at the top, “The emperor has passed away?!”