Chapter 82: Not By My Side

After returning from the Duke’s manor, Weishao Qianyu couldn’t stop thinking about what Lu Yanran had said—that someone had poisoned her. If not Lu Yanran, then who? Could it be that Lu Huiyan, having failed to use Lu Yanran as her pawn, decided to act herself?

The suspicion that Lu Huiyan might try to harm her had crossed Weishao Qianyu’s mind before, largely because rumors in Yue City held that Feng Jinye would form an alliance with the Lu family through marriage. If Lu Huiyan wished to marry into the Prince Zhan’s household, it was likely part of some covert scheme orchestrated by spies from Xiyan. But two years ago, during the poetry gathering, before Weishao Qianyu had even met Feng Jinye, Lu Huiyan was already plotting her removal. The logic didn’t add up.

Unable to unravel the mystery, Weishao Qianyu pulled out a letter from Feng Jinye. She unfolded it to find her name written densely, again and again, filling the page. Her thoughts drifted as she gazed up at the bright moon outside her window.

She had read the lines, “We share this moment beneath the same sky,” and, “Though a thousand miles apart, we gaze at the same moon.” Once, she had thought these were stories of beauty and romance. Now, she read them with an overwhelming sense of regret—a regret born of separation.

At that very moment, beyond the border, Feng Jinye drank a goblet of “Clear Wind Intoxication” while perched in a tree, his eyes too lifted to the moon, wondering whether the one far away was looking up at this same moon as he.

Weishao Qianyu’s intuition was rarely wrong. The Lu family, which should have been celebrating a harmonious reunion, was thrown into turmoil by the sudden return of Lu Liyuan. In the study, Lu Liyuan’s words were as cold as ice: “Don’t even think about involving Qianyu. None of you have the right to dictate her choices!”

Lu Qin, the heir, fell silent, as did the Duke, who had been about to rebuke Lu Liyuan for abandoning his post at the border to return to Yue City.

“It was you who arranged the engagement between Qianyu and me, who brought her back to the Lu family. Wouldn’t it have been better for her to marry the Prince Zhan? Do you realize what dangers she would face?” Lu Qin pressed.

Lu Liyuan shot him a sidelong glare. “Ask yourself: when you dragged me into this marriage arrangement with Qianyu, wasn’t it because Lu Huiyan wanted to marry into the Prince Zhan’s household?”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Lu Liyuan had heard the rumors in Guanling City—how the Prince Zhan was engaged to the general’s daughter, Weishao Qianyu. In a way, he was nominally Feng Jinye’s brother-in-law, yet Feng Jinye regarded him with undisguised hostility.

Upon careful inquiry, Lu Liyuan learned that earlier that year, the Lu family had somehow become entangled in the notion of his engagement to Weishao Qianyu. Soon after, Lu Qin wrote him a letter explaining the matter of the true and false daughters, prompting Lu Liyuan to race back to Yue City—for Lu Yanran’s sake, and for Weishao Qianyu’s as well.

“Grandfather, please treat Qianyu well, and… keep a close eye on Lu Yanran!” With those words, Lu Liyuan swept his robes and strode to the doorway. “If anything happens to Qianyu, I won’t hesitate to make the entire Lu family pay the price!”

Lu Qin, aghast, turned to the Duke. “He would go to such lengths for Qianyu!”

The Duke shook his head and sighed deeply.

Three days later, Lu Liyuan returned to the barracks, and all seemed as before. But when he lifted the tent flap, he found Feng Jinye and Huangfu Chen waiting for him inside.

“We’ve been waiting to discuss military strategy with you—where did you disappear to? You kept the mighty Prince Zhan waiting!” Huangfu Chen leapt up and slung an arm around Lu Liyuan’s shoulders.

“I made a trip back to the Lu family in Yue City,” Lu Liyuan answered without pretense.

Feng Jinye raised his eyes to glance at Lu Liyuan, but seemed to dismiss his words, proceeding directly: “We split into three forces. I’ll move on Qu City; you take Wu City; you, Sang City.”

With that, he stood and left the tent, leaving Huangfu Chen and Lu Liyuan dumbfounded. Was this what passed for strategic discussion?

The weather beyond the frontier was different from Yue City; in August, the air was already crisp with autumn. Feng Jinye sat once more in a tree, mulling over the message his shadow guard had brought him today: “If Qianyu marries the Prince Zhan, imagine the danger she would face.”

Feng Jinye’s original alliance with the Duke’s household was forged to uncover the traitor within, but after Lu Huiyan fled, the Prince Zhan’s shadow guards remained embedded in the Lu family. Every word and deed of the Lu household was known to him.

He even learned of Weishao Qianyu’s offhand “It’s alright,” realizing perhaps he hadn’t treated her well enough.

Soon, Night Eleven appeared beneath the tree, receiving his lord’s terse order: “Investigate every member of the Lu family.”

Lu Liyuan’s implication was clear. The Lu family had wronged Weishao Qianyu. Feng Jinye needed to know the truth. No one would be allowed to harm what was his.

In Lu Liyuan’s tent, Huangfu Chen was laying out battle plans. The more Lu Liyuan listened, the more astounded he became. When Huangfu Chen spread a map of Sang City before them, everything was clear—where to attack, where to defend, which routes were vulnerable, how many lines of retreat—each detail meticulously marked.

Lu Liyuan could not help but admire Feng Jinye’s ability to ascertain the intricacies of Xiyan’s fortifications; perhaps even the defenders themselves didn’t know their city so well.

He realized that Feng Jinye’s so-called three-pronged attack was truly a plan to take all of Xiyan’s northwest, step by step.

If, within three months, they could capture Qu City, Wu City, and Sang City, then with Feng Jinye’s abilities, the whole of Xiyan could be theirs within two years.

Lu Liyuan was secretly astonished.

Yet to seize three cities in three months was nearly impossible—but he didn’t doubt Feng Jinye for a moment.

Not long after the Mid-Autumn Festival, a major event shook Yue City. The heir of the Marquis of Xibo, Yun Ming, was poisoned by a strange toxin and sent to Yunyang Mountain to recuperate.

Weishao Qianyu was caught off guard. She had always known Yun Ming suffered from cold intolerance, but had never imagined it was due to poison. At such a critical moment, she felt something was amiss, but there was nothing she could do—not even knowing where Yunyang Mountain was.

After breakfast at the general’s manor, Weishao Qianyu hurried straight for the shadow guards’ tower at the Prince Zhan’s residence.

The tower was nearly deserted; only Night Ten remained with two teams to protect the Prince’s household.

Arriving outside, Weishao Qianyu made to enter, but Night Ten appeared suddenly, blocking her path.

Startled, she asked, “Are you stopping me?”

“No one enters the shadow guards’ tower without the master’s order,” Night Ten replied.

Night Ten harbored some resentment toward Weishao Qianyu, believing her postponement of the wedding was out of fear the Prince would die in battle and she would become a widow.

Weishao Qianyu frowned, realizing he was determined to bar her way. “Dongnuan!”

Dongnuan understood and slipped inside, heading straight for the women’s barracks, only to find it empty.

“Miss, there’s no one in the women’s barracks!” Dongnuan reported.

“Dong’er, all the women are assigned to Princess Xuan’s protection,” Night Ten explained, though his tone had softened.

Left with no choice, Weishao Qianyu took out the jade pendant Feng Jinye had given her, twirling it around her finger. “Is there anyone here who will obey orders?”

Night Ten frowned at the pendant, but finally knelt on one knee.

Immediately, the two teams of shadow guards appeared, kneeling as well.

“Rise,” Weishao Qianyu said coolly, stepping inside. “Night Ten, come in.”

“Take some men and investigate Yunyang Mountain and news of Lord Yun,” she ordered, letting go of the earlier hostility.

Night Ten hesitated. Normally, the shadow guards would never question the Prince’s orders, but now he did not understand Weishao Qianyu’s intentions.

Seeing his confusion, she explained, “If Feng Jinye were here in Yue City, this would never have happened to Yun Ming. This is no simple matter. It’s very likely aimed at Feng Jinye himself. Think about it—how long has your master been gone, and already someone targets those close to him!”

“And where is Princess Xuan?” she asked.

“In Shuyu Pavilion,” Night Ten replied, now convinced by her reasoning.

“I’ll go check on her,” Weishao Qianyu said, then paused. “It’s only two months until New Year. With Yun Ming, Feng Jinye, and Huangfu Chen all away, why don’t I bring Qingxuan to the general’s manor for the holiday?”

Night Ten paused—was she seeking his opinion?

“Ask Princess Xuan herself, Miss,” he replied.

She laughed. “I just don’t want you accusing me of running off with Qingxuan.”

With that, Weishao Qianyu strode out, her words light but her actions considerate—she would cooperate with Night Ten’s security arrangements if she took Feng Qingxuan out of the residence.

In Shuyu Pavilion, Feng Qingxuan sat in a daze, watching the birds chattering in the trees, oblivious to Weishao Qianyu’s approach.

“Qingxuan…” Weishao Qianyu called softly.

Feng Qingxuan turned slowly, managing a faint smile. “Ah, it’s you, Qianyu…”

From her tone, Weishao Qianyu sensed that Qingxuan was hoping for someone else.

“It’s almost New Year, and your brother likely won’t return in time. I’d like to bring you to the general’s manor for the festival—what do you think?” She didn’t bother with small talk, seeing that Qingxuan didn’t want company.

Feng Qingxuan brightened immediately. “I’d love that!” Yet as soon as she spoke, she added, “But could you fetch me closer to the festival?”

“Of course,” Weishao Qianyu agreed, then asked tentatively, “Have you had any letters from Huangfu?”

“I have,” Qingxuan replied, her voice calm.

Weishao Qianyu didn’t press further, and soon took her leave.

Little did either of them know that the coming New Year’s Day would herald a disaster.

On New Year’s Eve, Feng Qingxuan, staying at the general’s manor, learned that Yun Ming had been sent to Yunyang Mountain. Distraught, she left to seek news at the Marquis of Xibo’s residence, only to be intercepted by Lin Yichu along the way.

Lin Yichu used Feng Qingxuan as leverage to force Weishao Qianyu into writing a letter of separation to Feng Jinye.

Three thousand miles away, at the former Qu City of Xiyan, Huangfu Chen and Lu Liyuan, after dozens of battles over three months, finally arrived at a small city on Qu’s outskirts to rendezvous with Feng Jinye. If they could seize Qu City, the entire northwest of Xiyan would fall.

Yet as Feng Jinye’s army encircled the city, the old city lord earnestly sought parley, offering up Qu City on a single condition: that Prince Zhan marry his only daughter, Tan Yuner, as his consort.

The camp was abuzz with rumors. The soldiers, gathering in clusters, speculated that Qu City might fall without a fight.

With Huangfu Chen and Lu Liyuan having already taken Wu and Sang, talk of the Prince marrying the city lord’s daughter grew even more rampant.

In the Prince’s tent, Night Eleven entered to report, “My lord, a letter has arrived from the general’s manor. Will you read it?”

Feng Jinye, hunched over his sand table, jerked to attention. “How many?”

“About ten, I think…” Night Eleven felt the temperature plummet.

He knew well that his master would read only the future princess’s letters or reports of military import; all else was ignored. Besides, all of Weishao Qianyu’s letters were delivered by the Prince’s shadow guards at breakneck speed—who would have expected a letter from the general’s manor?

Feng Jinye’s expression darkened. “Bring them.”

Night Eleven handed over the letters and vanished instantly, sensing his master’s temper was about to erupt.

The first letter was a poem. As Feng Jinye read the elegant, refined handwriting, his face turned pale and his hand trembled slightly.

How could this be? Had news of Qu City already reached Yue City?

Agitated, Feng Jinye rapped twice on the sand table. “Prepare my horse!”