"Uncle Zhu Yu, are these your soldiers?" Xiao Shaojin looked back, speechless.
"You little brat! Get back here!" General Zhu Yu roared at the retreating messenger. "The Heir meant don't kill the prisoners and don't feed the corpse to dogs! Follow the original orders!"
The messenger looked disappointed but shouted an acknowledgment before running off.
"Uncle Zhu Yu," Xiao Shaojin sat down on a chair brought by his guards, crossing his legs. "How many times have you been to the Hall of Military Theory?"
"Five times a year!" Zhu Yu puffed out his chest proudly.
"Not enough," Xiao shook his head. "Starting tomorrow, report to the Hall. Stay there until the end of the year. Uncle Xia Bin will watch over your Eagle & Leopard Corps."
Zhu Yu felt like he'd been struck by lightning. "But my recruits haven't started training! Can I go next spring?"
"Non-negotiable," Xiao said firmly. "I thought your vague orders were just a personal quirk, but even your messenger is like that. Go read some books, Uncle Zhu. 'An incompetent general exhausts the three armies'—you know this saying."
Zhu Yu nodded reluctantly.
"Study hard!" Xiao shouted at his retreating back. "I'll quiz you on New Year's Eve!"
Zhu Yu grumbled something low and angry, making Xiao laugh.
"Tell me the results," Xiao turned to the other generals.
"Iron Pagoda Corps," General Yun Luo reported. "5,020 participants. 14 permanently disabled, 200 severely wounded, 9 dead. 500 horses lost."
"Heavy losses for the Iron Pagoda," Xiao nodded gravely. "Pick replacements from the camps. Rewards will be decided by my father. What about the ambush at the mountain pass?"
"We got there fifteen minutes before the Barbarians," Yun Luo grinned. "They were trapped. After a few charges, they surrendered. We captured about eight or nine thousand!"
General Xia Bin shoved Yun Luo aside. "Winged Riders reporting. We led the charge with 15,000 men. Eagle & Leopard Corps: 800 wounded, 600 dead. Divine Fire Battalion fought as infantry due to rain: 500 wounded, 300 dead."
"And your Winged Riders?"
Xia Bin lowered his head. "We took the brunt of the counter-charge. 900 wounded. Nearly 3,000 dead."
"I underestimated the Wu elite," Xiao sighed. "This merit belongs to the Winged Riders. I will remember it."
"Zhu Yu's men?" Xiao asked softly.
"More than half casualties. Only about 2,000 left."
Xiao Shaojin buried his face in his hands. "How many widows will ask me for husbands? How many children for fathers? How many elders for sons? It is my fault."
Yun Luo and Xia Bin looked at the twelve-year-old boy, unsure how to comfort him. They had watched him grow into a commander, executing strategies far beyond his years. But in moments like this, they remembered he was just a child who had seen too much death.
"Let's go home, Xiao Jin," Xia Bin broke the silence.
"Yes, it's getting dark," Yun Luo added.
Xiao Shaojin stood up. His carriage was ready. He headed back to Jicheng.
Under the night sky, Jicheng was ablaze with lights. Upon receiving the victory report, Prince Xiao Hong had canceled the curfew.
The thirty-yard-wide main road was bustling. Food stalls lined the streets, calling out to passersby.
Jicheng, once ruined by invasions, was now thriving under Xiao Hong's rule. He had rebuilt homes for refugees, restored farmlands, and dug a canal to connect with the Central Plains.
During this restoration, two great Sages had come to Jicheng.
One was Master Zeng Shiyan, the Fourth Sage of the Nine Literary Veins.
The other was Sun Zhongxuan, the 36th Successor of Ghost Valley.
Both were honored guests of the Prince and tutors to his son.
In the Prince's Mansion, Master Zeng Shiyan was not meditating as usual. He was in the Blue-Black Pavilion (Qingdai Pavilion)—built for him by Xiao Hong—waiting for Xiao Shaojin.
He had set up a Go board and invited Sun Zhongxuan for a game. Uncharacteristically, the teetotaler Sage had ordered a pot of wine.
Zeng Shiyan wore simple hemp robes. Sun Zhongxuan, however, was dressed in a flashy pale green robe embroidered with gold and silver cranes.
"Shiyan, why are you leaving Jicheng?" Sun Zhongxuan asked casually, taking a sip of wine after staring at a dead-end on the Go board.
"It is time," Zeng smiled. "Is there any banquet in the world that does not end?"
They had met eleven years ago at Jishan Academy. Classmates, friends, rivals. One became a Ghost Valley strategist, the other the Fourth Sage of the world.
"Do you know why I like sitting in this spot?" Sun asked, staring out the window.
"How would I know? You've always been weird," Zeng replied, picking up his cup but not drinking.
"Because the view looks just like our old dorm room at Jishan Academy. Don't you think?"
Seeing Zeng hesitate with the cup, Sun added, "If you can't drink, don't order it. You never live freely."
Zeng squeezed his eyes shut and downed the cup. He immediately coughed violently, his face turning red.
"Hahahaha!" Sun laughed, slapping his back. "The Fourth Sage of the Mortal World, defeated by a cup of wine!"
"It's too strong!" Zeng gasped.
"Border wine is meant to warm you in winter," Sun walked to the door. "Maid! Warm some yellow wine for the Sage. And get some side dishes—from the Heir's private kitchen."
"Why not the main kitchen?" Zeng scolded. "Xiao Jin is growing. If we eat his food, he eats less. A gentleman does not—"
Sun kicked him. "Gentleman my ass. This isn't the Academy. This is the Prince's Mansion. Do you think the Heir lacks food?"
Zeng sighed and drank another cup. "Xiao Jin does have good taste. He is like his mother in that regard. His cooks make excellent pastries. Last time, he sent me a dish called Fruit Compote (Hunzhuan)—cherries, peaches, lychees in honey. Unforgettable."
"That Cherry Compote wasn't from his kitchen," Sun grinned. "That was a gift from the Emperor."
"He gave away an Imperial gift?" Zeng was shocked.
"That's Xiao Jin. From us to his guards, who hasn't eaten the Emperor's snacks?" Sun downed another cup.
"Zhongxuan," Zeng poured himself a drink. "I know your freedom was hard-won. Prince Xiao helped you a lot. But do you plan to stay in Youzhou forever? Xiao Jin has completed the Ghost Valley Path. He is the 37th Successor now. You should plan for yourself."
Sun shook his head bitterly. "I never told you the full story. Not because I wasn't sincere, but because I didn't want to ruin your future. You are a Sage. I walk a rugged path."
"I am not leaving to be worshipped by the world," Zeng said melancholically. "Ten years ago, I made a promise to meet someone."
"Prince Xiao is generous to let you stay so long," Sun mused. "So, you finally have a chance?"
"Zhongxuan!" Zeng said angrily. "It is a friendship between gentlemen. No lines were crossed. I was a gentleman then, and I will be one now."
"Fine, fine. You're too serious," Sun changed the subject. "You two were classmates at the Lunar Academy. You realized the Dao at the same time. Who knew that year would produce two Sages, a man and a woman?"
Zeng fanned himself, feeling hot from the wine. "She was much smarter than me. At fifteen, she was famous across the world. In our first debate, I knew I was far inferior."
"The Su Clan of Jiangnan has deep roots," Sun scratched his head. "Where did Princess Consort Xiao realize the Dao?"
"At twenty, on Jade Mountain," Zeng recalled, his eyes distant. "She received the inheritance of the First Sage. She gained one of the four characters of the Noble Spirit. The next year, she debated scholars from all Nine Veins at the Hall of Universal Salvation for seven days. No one could defeat her. She was the Head Successor of the First Sage. Truly... peerless."
The scene was etched into his soul.
"You really are going to see Princess Consort Xiao!" Sun shouted. "Shiyan, you fool!"
"We are just classmates!" Zeng denied vehemently. "Why do you twist my words?"
"Really? That painting you made of a woman in red... dare you say it wasn't her?"
"I never painted her alone! Only group outings!"
"Really?"
"Really!"
"Did you paint her in your dreams?" Sun pressed.
"In... in dreams, I have seen her," Zeng lowered his head, his face red as a monkey's bottom.
"Admit it! You like her!"
"It was admiration!" Zeng defended. "Besides, she wasn't the Princess Consort then."
"Loving her isn't a crime," Sun softened. "Like you said, she was just a scholar from the Su Clan back then."
Zeng drank again. "Whatever it was... maybe I did have feelings. But so what? I am but a speck of dust; she is the bright moon in the sky. Only a hero like Prince Xiao is worthy of her."
Suddenly, the door burst open.
Xiao Shaojin rushed in, pointing an excited finger at the Sage.
"MASTER ZENG! I KNEW YOU LIKED MY MOM!"