Hot flashes

Xiao Jue raised his head.

"Someone come here."

The curtain was lifted, and the guards entered silently.

"Order Zhao Ting to abandon the search around Lingshui and head south immediately."

From the crossroads to the mountain roads, official roads, and villages west of Lingshui County, we asked every pharmacy, clinic, pawnshop, and inn along the way if anyone had seen a young man around twenty years old, with an injured left arm, traveling alone south.

His voice was steady, each word deliberate and clear, like issuing military orders for conquering territory.

"Furthermore, order Chen Shen: Activate all hidden agents along the route. Anyone who provides clues will be rewarded; anyone who assists in hiding will be punished equally. If anyone dares to harm him..."

He didn't go on.

The guards waited a moment, then bowed their heads, accepted the order, and hurried out of the tent.

Xiao Jue picked up the pen again. He wrapped the broken pen shaft tightly with a strip of cloth, held it in his palm, the pain pressing against the wound, keeping him awake.

There are still three military reports spread out on the table that have not been approved. The deployment for tomorrow's siege still needs final confirmation, and the order for the allocation of food supplies the day after tomorrow also needs to be issued.

He wants to conquer Nandu. He wants to find that person.

He has to do both of these things.

The night outside the tent was as dark as ink.

A hundred miles away, Zhou Heng leaned against a withered tree and swallowed the last bite of dry biscuit with his water bag.

His left shoulder started hurting again. He unwrapped the bandage and reapplied the medicine. By the dim moonlight, he could see that the redness and swelling seemed to have subsided a bit.

He carefully put away the ointment, wrapped his cotton-padded coat tightly, and continued on his way.

At 3:45 AM, Chen Shen hurried into the tent.

"Twenty miles south of the crossroads, there is a checkpoint set up by unruly soldiers. The guards said that a lone man, around twenty years old, with what appeared to be a problem with his left arm, was using a crutch and was dressed in tattered clothes. They searched him but found nothing of value, so they let him pass."

Xiao Jue's pen stopped in mid-air.

"Which way?"

"South. The man passed the checkpoint and continued south along the main road."

"and then?"

Chen Shen paused for a moment: "After the checkpoint, they disappeared without a trace. The main road forks ten miles ahead, one leading to Lingshui County, and the other winding around the mountains. General Zhao has already split into two groups to investigate, but there are still no leads."

Xiao Jue remained silent. The candlelight flickered uncertainly in his eyes.

"Continue investigating the Lingshui direction." He put down his pen, his voice unusually calm. "Add more manpower to the mountain road. He's injured and can't walk fast."

Chen Shen accepted the order.

The curtains were lifted and then lowered, letting in the night wind, which made the candlelight flicker violently for a moment.

Xiao Jue looked down at the map on the table, his fingertips slowly moving south from the fork in the road, past the checkpoint, across the official road, and stopping at the mark on the winding mountain road.

He didn't know if he was right or wrong.

At daybreak, the second message arrived.

It's not Lingshui, not a mountain road—it's a small village with only a dozen or so households, twenty miles south of the outpost.

Chen Shen presented a piece of broken silver. It was of ordinary quality, with worn edges, as if it had been cut.

"At the entrance of the village, there was an old woman, widowed, whose son had been conscripted into the army and there had been no news of him for three years."

She said that the evening before last, a young man came asking for water. He had an injury on his left arm and looked very unwell. He claimed to have fled from the north. She gave him two whole-grain cakes, a packet of salt, and a jar of homemade liniment.

Xiao Jue took the piece of silver. There were very fine engravings on the corner of the silver, which were the marks of his mansion's storeroom.

He clenched his fist, and the wound on his palm reopened, blood seeping between his fingers and staining the silver horn red.

"The old man's name." Xiao Jue opened his eyes. "Write it down. Once the war is over, have someone go and thank him."

"Yes."

Messages were being sent back from the south, one after another.

The journey was very slow. The places Zhou Heng had traveled through were too remote; they were not official roads or main roads, but narrow, abandoned paths used by mountain people to gather herbs, half-covered by weeds.

He deliberately avoided crowds and checkpoints that might be set up, like a frightened bird, heading south, south, and further south.

Each clue was fragmented and incomplete.

On the ninth day of the third month, seven days after the great victory at Poyang Lake, the last line of defense north of the Southern Capital collapsed.

The vanguard of the Jingbei Army had reached thirty li north of the city, while the central army steadily advanced. Supply lines were open, and reinforcements were arriving one after another. The young emperor of the Southern Capital issued three edicts of self-reproach, and the veteran general Li Chong, gazing at the banners of the Northern Army from the city wall, turned white overnight.

The outcome is decided. All that remains is time.

Xiao Jue sat in the central command tent all night.

On the table were Shen Yu's drafted strategy for attacking the city, post-war appeasement terms, and regulations for the resettlement of newly appointed officials. Shen Yu's words were tactful, but the meaning was clear: Your Highness, you do not need to come to the city walls in person.

He did not answer.

At dawn, he summoned Zhao Ting, Wang Ben, and Shen Yu.

"The battle in the south of the city is under the command of General Zhao Ting." He pointed to the map, his voice steady. "The siege in the north of the city is under the command of General Wang Ben. The allocation of provisions, the suppression of the rear, and the pacification of the newly annexed cities are all handled by Mr. Shen."

The three exchanged a glance, and Zhao Ting hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Xiao Jue didn't look at him.

"During my absence from the camp, all military affairs were discussed by Zhao Ting and Mr. Shen. In case of major events, Mr. Shen made the final decision."

He paused, then pushed the seal of the Prince of Jingbei on the table forward.

"In case of urgent military matters, we may act first and report later."

Shen Yu's pupils contracted slightly: "Your Highness, you..."

Xiao Jue had already stood up.

He wasn't wearing armor, only a black casual robe, and his cloak wasn't fastened. The injury on his shoulder made him move more slowly than usual, but every step was steady.

Outside the tent, the horses were ready.

It was a sturdy, green horse with long legs. It was a warhorse he had brought from the northern border, which had accompanied him through Wolf Valley, across Cangyun Ridge, and across the Canglan River.

There was no saddle on his horse, only an old cushion—he couldn't wait to change horses.

Chen Shen, accompanied by six bodyguards, was already waiting on horseback.

"Your Highness, you only brought six people, is that alright—"

"Enough." Xiao Jue mounted his horse. The wound on his shoulder was aggravated, but he didn't even frown.

He looked down at Zhao Ting and Wang Ben, who were still kneeling in the tent, hesitant to speak, then at the mountain of military reports on the table and the cold seal, and finally at the southward route on the map that he had already worn white from rubbing it so much.

Then he turned his horse around.

"Within three days, I want to hear news of the fall of Nandu."

His voice was steady, devoid of any emotion.

"Yes," Zhao Ting said in a deep voice.

Horse hooves broke through the dawn.

Heading south from the crossroads, you'll find checkpoints, villages, mountain roads, and streams.

Xiao Jue walked every path that Zhou Heng had walked.

He stopped at the checkpoint. The mutinous soldiers had already been cleared away by Zhao Ting's men, leaving only a mess on the ground.

He stood at the spot where Zhou Heng had once passed through, hunched over and pretending to be a lame refugee, and looked at it for a long time.

Chen Shen invited the old woman from the village.

She was very old, with a hunched back and completely white hair, but she was not afraid when she stood in front of Xiao Jue.

She returned the bag of loose silver coins to him—the coins she had exchanged for the silver coin Zhou Heng had left behind. She said the young man had already paid the consultation fee, and she couldn't take any more.

"He was badly injured," the old woman said. "He had his shoulder set himself, but it wasn't set properly, and he walked a long way, so it's swollen really badly. He also had a head injury, which got infected and festering. He had a fever and was unsteady on his feet, but he still insisted on going to Nandu."

Xiao Jue listened.

After a long while, he lowered his head.

"Thank you," he said.

The old woman waved her hand and walked unsteadily back to the low house made of yellow earth.