Chapter 35

After a moment’s thought, Wei Jing realized that Shao Qing was truly different. Whether it was a songstress or any other ordinary woman, how could they compare with his wife?

When the banquet dispersed, he walked slowly toward the backyard. The night breeze, carrying a hint of chill, failed to cool the turmoil swirling in his mind.

A careless remark by Zhuang Yan had unsettled even Wei Jing—a man whose battlefield command was unshakable and who was famed as a war god—causing him to feel irritable.

On one hand, he regarded Shao Qing as one-of-a-kind, beyond comparison with anyone else. Although he disapproved of how the guests talked about her, deep down, he found himself inclined to believe that it wouldn’t be entirely wrong for him to develop romantic feelings for her.

Yet, on the other hand, the beliefs he had established since childhood were deeply ingrained, and his mother’s teachings still resonated in his ears. How could he dare to defy them? That would simply be wrong.

Amidst his tangled thoughts and having passed through no more than three enclosures at the county office, he soon reached the backyard. He paused in front of the main hall’s door with a frown. Almost immediately, the sound of footsteps from within could be heard, and the door opened to reveal Shao Qing’s smiling face.

“What’s the matter? Why did you come back without going inside?” Shao Qing glanced at him curiously. Noticing his somber expression and the slight furrowing of his brows, a sudden jolt went through her heart as she asked, “Has something happened?”

Surely not—she had only left a minute or two earlier.

“Nothing,” he replied.

Her smile faded as her eyes grew wide with worry. Wei Jing quickly reassured her, “I was just thinking about other things. You don’t need to worry.”

“That’s good. Now, come in.”

Shao Qing took his large hand and pulled him inside, guiding him toward the inner chamber while saying, “Hurry and take a bath; I’ve already picked out your nightclothes.”

In the warm, inviting spring boudoir, Shao Qing’s face and neck, still flushed from her bath, exuded a familiar, heartwarming fragrance. Holding his hand and beaming with joy, she told him that she had already prepared his clothes, urging him to freshen up and rest quickly.

After speaking, she even wrinkled her nose as if she weren’t very fond of the smell of alcohol on him.

“Do you really smell of it?” he remarked, adding, “I only had a few cups of plain wine.”

At that moment, with the scene before him and such a Shao Qing—like a steaming hot spring with rising steam, her warmth washing over his heart, permeating his soul, and spreading through every limb—he felt an overwhelming sense of ease. A gentle smile appeared on his face as he raised his hand to sniff his wide sleeve.

“Doesn’t smell at all.”

Enough of these thoughts—why overthink it? In the vast expanse of heaven and earth, she alone exists; no one else can compare to her, and no one could ever replace her. Whether or not there’s any forbidden affection is hardly important. He indulged in such wandering thoughts, realizing it was nothing more than a trivial worry.

If no outcome can be imagined, then why dwell on it? Wei Jing brushed aside all those tangled thoughts, took her to the partition, exchanged a few words with her, and then raised his arm, signaling for her to undress him.

This man! Shao Qing glared at him irritably and reached out to undo his belt. Fine, I’ll tend to you then.

After helping him remove his outer robe and vest—leaving him in nothing but a pair of plain silk shorts—his smoothly sculpted abs, though pleasing to the eye, was not enough to convince her to continue her ministrations. Seeing that Wei Jing still stood still, she quickly pushed him.

“Come on, go on.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she turned and walked away, while Wei Jing smiled faintly and slipped behind the screen.

…

On the table, a small lamp burned with a soft, dim yellow light. Shao Qing lay on a plush pillow beneath the quilt, the gentle sound of water coming from behind the screen echoing by her ear. She wasn’t sleepy at all—instead, she rolled over to rest her gaze on the raised bed curtains.

The vibrant red canopy had long been replaced by a sky-blue silk one adorned with a pattern of cranes among peonies. She reached out and lightly prodded the exquisite peony design.

This serene, stable life was a world apart from how things had begun, and she truly hoped it could last forever. In fact, from the moment she accepted Wei Jing, she also accepted the idea of revenge.

Revenge—even if it means perishing in the attempt—was a notion she had embraced. But honestly, in today’s world even decent, ordinary people haven’t fared much better; losing one’s life is all too easy—just like the merchant caravan wiped out by the Pu tribe yesterday.

Sigh, she hoped that things would go smoothly from now on.

On that autumn night, which always carried a hint of chill, she curled up under her quilt and rolled over, and the sound of water behind the folding screen ceased.

Wei Jing, casually draped in his nightclothes, blew out the oil lamp and turned over to get into bed. Noticing that Shao Qing was still awake, he said, “Ah Qing, I have ordered someone to go to Yuzhou.”

“Yuzhou?” she asked, her voice tinted with surprise. “Is that about Yang Ze?”

Wei Jing nodded. Securing Yang Ze’s household registration had been entirely accidental; originally, going to Pingtao wasn’t a predetermined choice. But times change, and after some effort, Pingtao has indeed become his new stronghold. All his current plans revolve around Pingtao, so this crucial juncture must not be jeopardized.

Yang Ze is from Yuzhou, and Wei Jing wasn’t even sure about the situation over there—whether his parents were still alive, if he had any close friends, and such matters. All these issues needed to be thoroughly understood and countermeasures put in place.

Wei Jing never lost sight of that fact. However, since he had previously lacked trustworthy personnel to command, once the Qingzhai Guards were reassembled, he immediately sent men over.

“It should be so.” Shao Qing wholeheartedly agreed. After all, better safe than sorry—they just needed to ensure that none of those who knew Yang Ze appeared in Yizhou. With the two places separated by vast mountains and winding rivers, making the journey arduous, this precaution was not difficult to arrange.

She lay with her head against Wei Jing’s chest, his large hand gently stroking her back in a steady, soothing rhythm that made sleepiness wash over her. After a small yawn, just as Shao Qing was about to close her eyes, she suddenly heard him say, “I’ve also sent someone to search for my aunt.”

“Aunt?” In an instant, her drowsiness vanished. She thought for a moment—Wei Jing’s aunt was none other than the former Lady of the Pinghai Marquisate, Madam Meng.

Speaking of the Pinghai Marquisate, its fate had been equally tragic. Even before Wei Jing turned back from the northern frontier, the previous emperor had already seized it all. Every eligible man in the household was beheaded, while the women, children, and infants were exiled—forced to journey some two thousand li to the southwest.

Indeed, among those who had set off with Shao Qing were Wei Jing’s aunt, Madam Meng, along with her two daughters (one born of the primary consort and one of a concubine) and a legitimate young son who was only ten years old.

As for Fu Jun’s four sons, only this little youngest—still not of age—had managed to escape death during the mass purge.

Now that Wei Jing had finally recovered and with his forces no longer stretched thin, he resolved to search for any surviving members of his maternal kin.

Shao Qing hesitated, “But, but back at that posthouse…?”

She was referring to that moment during the exile when assassins attacked. Even though, amid the flashing blades and the chaos, she had been too preoccupied to truly take care of herself, Shao Qing still remembered clearly how more than half of the several dozen people exiled with them—the very targets of the new emperor—had been ruthlessly cut down by black-clad killers as if slicing through a melon or chopping vegetables.

Surely, there must have been some who slipped through, but is the Fu family really that lucky?

Shao Qing tried very hard to recall, but the scene was too chaotic—she really didn’t have any clear impressions.

“Do what you can and let fate take its course,” Wei Jing said as he recalled the voice and smile of his dear maternal uncle from days past, his expression momentarily falling into sorrow.

“Perhaps it’s even uncertain whether my Aunt and cousins survived.”

In the darkness, Shao Qing couldn’t clearly see Wei Jing’s face, but she could distinctly detect the change in his tone. A man who had always been resilient, even in the direst situations, now appeared so sorrowful that it pained her deeply. Taking the initiative, she wrapped her arm around his waist and gently consoled him, “I saw quite a few people escape into the dense forest.”

At that moment, she sincerely hoped that even if only one member of the Fu family survived, it would be something to be grateful for.

“Mm.” Wei Jing then turned and held her from behind, holding her very tightly. Her warm body, resting contentedly in his arms, seemed to soothe his heart. He closed his eyes; after a long while, he opened them again and lightly kissed her forehead. “I’m fine. Go to sleep.”

…

Wei Jing was indeed a resilient man—a fleeting moment of sadness could not shake him. The next day, he threw himself into the frantic preparations for battle.

During the day, the county troop camp buzzes with intense drills rehearsing battle formations, and at night, the soldiers recite new codes and flag signals—all to ensure the entire military operates in close coordination and fully unleashes its combat prowess.

Meanwhile, Wei Jing deployed a thousand county soldiers divided into five teams to patrol the official roads connecting the townships within the Pingtao region. Upon learning the news, many merchant caravans carefully planned their routes to secure as much protection from the troops as possible.

As a result, the county squads inevitably encountered the barbarian tribes—known for their frequent criminal acts—leading to small-scale skirmishes along the narrow paths.

At first, the Pu tribe was completely unprepared and suffered a heavy loss when the county squads killed more than twenty of them. The survivors had no choice but to quickly flee into the mountains and forests in a desperate bid for survival.

The Pu tribe’s anger was ignited in an instant. Far from retreating, they redoubled their efforts to take vengeance on the Pingtao side. Under the command of their chieftain, Jiahan, they escalated their retaliatory attacks.

From August 8th to August 13th—just a span of five days—the county authorities received reports of twenty-nine incidents involving the Pu tribe. The Pu employed their customary guerrilla tactics: if they encountered the county troop camp, they would attack when feasible and quickly withdraw if not, whereas if they ran into ordinary merchant caravans, they attacked as ferociously as a wolf entering a flock of sheep.

True to form, the Pu tribe, skilled in noxious tactics, favored deploying disorienting smoke during their guerrilla engagements. Although the county troops were well prepared for this countermeasure, when an ordinary merchant caravan was caught in the smoke, its best option was to promptly forgo its valuables and flee without delay.

It seemed that even if the Pu tribe did not send out every last man, their numbers would hardly diminish.

Wei Jing closed the latest report that had just been delivered and looked up, saying, “The time to encircle the two barbarian tribes has come.”

Now, two thousand county soldiers were already on patrol. His deployment was by no means random. Out in the open, commanders such as Han Xi frequently led the county troops in attacks, and behind the scenes, the Qingzhai Guards intermittently harassed the enemy. Although the Pu tribe had seized a great deal of treasure, they also suffered both heavy and light losses, costing them many of their own.

For these mountain-dwelling barbarians, their fellow tribesmen were far more precious than material wealth—and their hatred was growing ever stronger. According to clandestine reports from the Qingzhai Guards, it appeared that the Pu tribe leader, Jiahan, had established contact with the Yi tribe. The two tribes had gathered together, almost certainly preparing to join forces.

What, then, was the purpose of this alliance?

It was nothing more than an attempt to terrify Pingtao. Their aim was to deliver a heavy blow to Wei Jing—knocking him from his position as county magistrate, avenging old and new grievances—and to instill such fear in his successor that they would have no choice but to revert to the former tactics used against the barbarian tribes.

The strategy would be defensive in nature, designed simply to preserve one’s official position—just as previous county magistrates of Pingtao had done.

At this point, the plan for dealing with the two barbarian tribes perfectly aligned with Wei Jing’s own expectations. He said in a deep, measured tone, “Dispatch the order: Tomorrow at the third watch, prepare the meal; at the fifth watch, break camp and encircle the two barbarian tribes!”

Without delay, he immediately gathered four thousand county soldiers to be led by martial officers such as Han Xi, Chen Qi, and Deng Guang. He also selected civil officials and aides like Zhuang Yan and ordered that the troops set out for battle tomorrow.

“Understood!” came the chorus as those chosen rose from formation and responded in unison.

That’s about it. Next, those who have received the orders should go and start preparing. That was what Shao Qing was thinking—until she saw Kou Xuan hurry forward, clasp his hands, and say, “My lord, I wish to accompany the army and contribute my humble strength. Please permit me!”

Huh? This is odd. How can Kou Xuan even make such a request?

It’s not that he cannot be taken along, but comparatively speaking, Kou Xuan is actually the frailest among everyone present. Even Zhuang Yan—who, before assuming the position as head of the family, frequently traveled with merchant caravans to broaden his horizons and even learned some martial arts—is far stronger. In this campaign against the barbarians, which is conducted deep in the mountains and jungles, lacking physical fitness would make every step arduous; this is precisely why Wei Jing kept him.

But to Shao Qing’s surprise, Wei Jing merely gave Kou Xuan one glance and promptly and decisively agreed to his request.

“Agreed.”

…

Shao Qing was somewhat puzzled. After Wei Jing instructed Ji Huan to stay behind and handle all matters, they returned to their room. Hurrying to speak in a low voice, she asked, “Husband, why did you agree to Kou Wenchang?”

After all, he’s not exactly a man who is easy to persuade.

Wei Jing smiled faintly and replied, “Perhaps he intends to use this opportunity to take care of Yuan Hong.”

Author’s note: Shao Qing is the one that Wei Jing managed to tie down with great difficulty—a truly unique acquisition. He certainly isn’t someone who would make such concessions easily, hahaha. He wouldn’t do that; at most, he’d be secretly conflicted. Let’s give him some time to sort out his inner turmoil, hahaha.