Outside Yongzhou City, at the Tiger Division Camp.
Xie Jing shifted a box and sat at the tent entrance; his loose sleeves rolled up past his elbows and secured behind his back with a belt to keep them from dangling and getting in the way of his work. His left wrist was supporting bandage roll, while his right hand gripped a short saber about half an arm’s length. He pressed down on the calf of the soldier across from him, carefully peeling the wound away from the blood-soaked cloth.
Xu Jia held down the soldier’s back to prevent him from struggling out of pain, and Xu Yi stood beside him holding medicinal wine, waiting for Xie Jing’s instructions.
Fortunately, the wound was not deep, and aside from the sharp, momentary pain of the cloth detaching completely from the skin where it had stuck, it was not unbearable.
The soldier was also quite young and didn’t have the rough mannerisms of a veteran; he was rather awkward when Xie Jing reached out to lift his leg, repeatedly apologizing and continuously saying, “Thank you, Physician.”
Xu Yi said sharply, “This is not a physician.”
Xie Jing and Xu Jia both glanced at him at the same time, and he quickly made up for it: “This is Master Wu, who is with the Prefect, here to help out in the army.”
“I can only deal with superficial wounds; for anything involving bones and tendons, you still need to find your junior medical official. It’s just that the anesthetic isn’t enough, prioritized for the seriously wounded inside, so you’ll have to bear with the pain a bit.” Xie Jing heated the blade tip over the fire once, then instructed Xu Yi to apply the medicine, and then carefully wrapped the bandage around the soldier’s leg, “Use this leg less for the next few days; if there’s anything urgent, switch posts.”
The soldier agreed, thanked him, and limped away. Xie Jing was packing up and was just about to return to the main tent when he saw the accompanying medical official—a young man with a baby face, walk out and shyly invited him to come in and sit for a while.
Xie Jing thought for a moment and asked a passing young soldier who had just come down from the field ridges: “Has His Highness returned yet?”
The young soldier shook his head, and the medical official said from behind, “Master Wu is looking for His Highness for something? Then I won’t—”
“It’s nothing.” Xie Jing stood up and stretched his waist. “It’s still early anyway; let’s go in and talk for a bit.”
Inside the tent, some were sitting, others lying down—they were all injured soldiers who were inconvenient to move around; they greeted Xie Jing as he entered, and the medical official swept an empty space for him and poured a cup of water, then the two sat down on the ground.
“Master Wu has been working hard these days; Lord He originally didn’t assign you to the army to do such trivial things.” The medical official spoke sincerely, seeming quite ashamed of his previous inexperience that had caused wails of pain both inside and outside the tent.
Xie Jing motioned for him not to be so polite and then asked, “I’m curious, this Tiger Division is so large, are you the only physician?”
The medical official shook his head: “There haven’t been any battles recently; His Highness ordered the other two to stay in the city to consult the common people, leaving only an inexperienced one like me.”
Xie Jing smiled: “You just lack some experience. Since His Highness hasn’t blamed you, just carry out your duties with confidence; don’t be so cautious.”
The medical official agreed, then lowered his voice a little, and said, “I have a presumptuous question, just a casual inquiry; it’s fine if Master Wu finds it inconvenient to answer.”
Xie Jing: “Go ahead.”
“Seeing the way you applied the ointment today reminded me of an old acquaintance, he was an elder; I dare not make wild guesses, but I wanted to ask, Master… have you ever been to the capital?”
Xie Jing was silent for a moment but then countered with a question: “Which elder?”
The medical official smiled bitterly: “Imperial Physician Qin of the Imperial Academy is my master, but I was not promising and failed the qualification for promotion; I was supposed to be sent back to my hometown, but because I was lucky enough to treat the Eldest Princess for an injury once, I was favored and assigned to the Tiger Division.”
He immediately added, “However, my master always worked within the palace walls, and I didn’t expect to see a similar technique here, hence my question; I apologize for the offense.”
Xie Jing slowly said, “When I was young, I went to the capital to seek fame. There was a medical hall next to my lodging, and I happened to see Imperial Physician Qin offering free consultations. Watching it daily, I eventually learned it; I didn’t expect to actually use it one day.”
The medical official was surprised: “I see… Did my master also leave the palace for free consultations? I’ve never heard of it.”
Xie Jing didn’t say anything, nor did he know whether Imperial Physician Qin had ever left the palace for free consultations. That old man had been recommended by the Wu family; he was a confidant of Noble Consort Wu and had always maintained a close relationship with Prince Zhao’s Mansion. Xie Jing initially held a bit of a grudge against him—it was Imperial Physician Qin who had anxiously rushed to the Prince’s Mansion on the second night after he and Lu Lingcong got married, urging Lu Lingcong to decide whether or not they wanted an heir.
In the end, there were reasons for everything, and each served his own master, so Xie Jing didn’t bother with it later. Furthermore, although Imperial Physician Qin was stubborn and single-minded, he was indeed an irreproachable and devoted official; regardless of the weather, he would personally visit the Prince’s Mansion to check even a minor scratch on Lu Shuqing.
It was normal to have bumps and bruises while practicing martial arts, and boys didn’t need to be overly coddled; Lu Lingcong, who was a “physician through prolonged illness,” could have handled it, but his rough handling lacked finesse, and he was unfortunately eliminated after Lu Shuqing pointedly criticized him, saying, “I don’t want Father.” Xie Jing also felt bad making an old man like Imperial Physician Qin constantly make tiresome trips to the Prince’s Mansion, so he simply learned a few basic techniques from him.
Xie Jing changed the subject and said to the medical official, “I was wondering, your accent does sound different from the soldiers.”
A wounded soldier nearby was the first to explain: “Although the close confidants His Highness initially took from the outskirts of the capital were only three thousand men, the thirty thousand elite of the Tiger Division truly count as those who came out of the Huai River region rebellion, so the army is mostly Anhui people, and the Mandarin spoken by the Physician is naturally different from ours.”
Xie Jing understood, recalling that Li Qi had indeed mentioned to him that Lu Lingcong had stayed in the Huai River region for five months after leaving the capital that year.
“Where is Master Wu’s home? How did you come to settle in Yongzhou?”
Xie Jing pursed his lips and let out a well-timed sigh: “I was born between the Yellow and Luo Rivers. After failing the imperial examination, I had no face to see my neighbors and elders, so I simply never went back. I drifted all the way here and was fortunate to be taken in by Lord He.”
Someone immediately urged, “If Master is willing, staying in the Tiger Division would also be a good prospect; His Highness’s command is currently in need of a strategist and advisor.”
Xie Jing feigned surprise: “Does His Highness even need an advisor?”
“That’s true too; His Highness is a born commander; there has never been any oversight these years; he truly is infallible.”
Xie Jing agreed: “His Highness and the Tiger Division are mutually accomplished; if the Tiger Division were to change its commander, it certainly wouldn’t have today’s achievements.”
After speaking, he observed without changing his expression; no one in the room found these words strange or inappropriate; they simply accepted them as an undeniable fact.
Combining this with several days of subtle, gradual probing, Xie Jing could almost confirm that this army no longer pledged allegiance to the emperor, nor the Imperial Court, nor even Prince Zhao, but to Lu Lingcong as an individual.
Or rather, from the very beginning, the Tiger Division, whose main force was the “rebels and bandits” not tolerated by the court, only pledged allegiance to Lu Lingcong as an individual.
It Is imaginable what kind of turmoil would be caused if Lu Lingcong’s military authority were stripped and his absolute control over the Tiger Division was overthrown.
Whether it was ultimately beneficial or harmful was beside the point; the unavoidable reality was that the “principles” upheld by the Tiger Division and those held by Lu Lingcong stood in direct opposition.
At present, the capital still depends on the Tiger Division, and all matters could be discussed amicably. But if one day the Tiger Division won its merits and withdrew, and the court’s so-called assurance of not casting aside the hunting bow once the birds were gone, of not killing the donkey after it had finished grinding the mill[mfn]Not discarding them.[/mfn] amounted merely to reclaiming the tiger tally from Lu Lingcong’s hands, then, judging by Xie Jing’s understanding of him, Lu Lingcong would accept it.
The Tiger Division was willing to die for him, but he wanted the Tiger Division to live.
Not only did he want the Tiger Division to live, but he also wanted his dearest loved ones, old friends and acquaintances, subordinates, the people of the royal domain of Jinling or the border city of Yongzhou, and even all the citizens of Great Qi within the four borders to live.
Stepping outside the role of a lover, Xie Jing admired Lu Lingcong for this, because he clearly knew he could not do it. At best, he could only be a capable minister; he neither could nor wished to become a true gentleman, for he lacked that breadth of mind and spirit, and also lacked the audacity to bear the immense responsibility demanded by the conviction that “all the land under heaven belongs to the King, and all the people under heaven are the King’s subjects.”
In other words, he himself might only show profound affection and sincerity to a limited number of people, while Lu Lingcong showed profound affection and sincerity to everyone under heaven.
From this perspective, his “principles” and Lu Lingcong’s “principles” were also different. But they had collaborated for so many years despite their different paths because they clearly knew that these two “principles” were not superior or inferior to one another; whether it was solely cultivating oneself or benefiting the world, they were just different choices and not a matter of right or wrong.
They didn’t force themselves to change anything, nor did they force the other party to change for them. Simply watching each other walk resolutely down their chosen “path” was enough.
When Lu Lingcong lifted the curtain and stepped inside, the first thing he saw was that slender back; seated cross-legged with one shoulder mostly veiled by half-tied long hair, and cheerfully chatting with a group of large, rough-looking wounded soldiers.
He rushed back to the camp before dark, intending to have dinner with Xie Jing, but he didn’t find him in the main tent. This time, he didn’t even need to ask the Xu brothers, he just instinctively came looking for him and indeed found his tactful Princess Consort skillfully carrying out the work of “integrating with the Tiger Division from top to bottom.”
Lu Lingcong did not announce his arrival, so no one expected him to come in person beforehand; apart from Xie Jing, who was sitting with his back to the tent entrance, and a few injured soldiers who had difficulty moving, the rest quickly stood up and said, “His Highness has arrived.”
Xie Jing turned his face and looked up, genuinely not wanting to move from the comfortable cushion he was sitting on, but he couldn’t disregard proper etiquette in front of so many people, so he had to quickly stand up, only a half-beat slower than the others, and bowed in greeting.
Lu Lingcong waved his hand. Perhaps his gaze lingered on Xie Jing for a little too long, or the look in his eyes was slightly strange. The medical official beside him interpreted this as “His Highness Prince Zhao saw a familiar person but couldn’t recall his name and was very embarrassed,” so upholding the duty of helping his superior out of a predicament, he immediately said:
“Your Highness, this is Master Wu from the Prefect’s Mansion, who came to help out in the afternoon.”
Lu Lingcong hummed and nodded: “I know him.”
He didn’t say anything more, and just said, “Come out and eat,” and then turned and walked out. Several soldiers were already gathered around the campfire outside the tent; upon seeing him approach, they immediately scattered in twos and threes to make way for him. Lu Lingcong sat down with everyone and talked about the defensive construction work that was nearing completion.
The medical official said, “Master Wu, come along; since His Highness has spoken, let’s just eat dinner together.”
Xie Jing couldn’t refuse either and followed them. With generals sitting on both sides of Prince Zhao, he could only sit down with the medical official on the opposite side while facing Lu Lingcong across the campfire.
This wasn’t the first time he had seen Lu Lingcong mingling with the officials. When he was a teenager, he secretly followed him to the training ground under the command of Li Qi’s brother-in-law, and Lu Lingcong was also this casual, calling everyone brothers and friends without formality. But at that time, he wouldn’t publicly reveal his identity. Today was different from the past; for a commander-in-chief to be able to joke around without formality or pretense without worries of compromised military prestige or lax discipline, he must have absolute confidence in his ability to effortlessly command his subordinates.
After dinner, Lu Lingcong found an excuse to discuss agricultural matters and led Xie Jing away from the wounded soldiers who were still trying to hold onto him. They made their way back toward the main tent, skirting the sentries, and once they reached a secluded spot, he tugged him over and wrapped him in an embrace, saying with quiet satisfaction, “I finally got a hug.”
“You just hugged me this morning.” Xie Jing patted him. “Let’s go back first.”
Lu Lingcong didn’t move: “Let’s stay here for a while; we can look at the moon as well.”
Xie Jing lifted his head at the sound of his words and saw the bright full moon hanging low in the distant sky, realizing that tonight must be either the fifteenth or the sixteenth.
“Do you remember the Lantern Festival that year?” He nudged Lu Lingcong with his shoulder. “It also snowed, and we moved the stove to the Qibi Terrace and celebrated the festival on the lake.”
The Qibi Terrace was built in the center of the inner rear lake of Prince Zhao’s Mansion. In summer, taking down the window panels turned it into an open, breezy pavilion; in winter, fitting them back in transformed it into a chamber by the water. This was the only structure built after Xie Jing married into the Prince’s Mansion, and he oversaw its construction from beginning to end, personally inscribing the plaque and the couplets.
“You made a lotus lantern for Qing’er, and he accidentally knocked it into the lake.” Lu Lingcong replied.
Xie Jing thought, “Yes, and then he ate so many glutinous rice balls that he got indigestion and refused to sleep.”
Lu Lingcong continued: “That night we slept on Qibi Terrace, two thick mink blankets spread beneath us and covered with the silver-gray quilt that was replaced every year around the White Dew season; it was laid crosswise, leaving my feet exposed the entire night.”
Xie Jing smiled; in that instant, lamplight, moonlight, and the pale sheen of snow all poured into the lake, breaking into fragmented, molten-gold ripples that danced vividly in his eyes.
“But the sixteenth of the first lunar month was a sunny day,” he added. “I was the first to wake up. The charcoal fire was blazing, and both of you had kicked off the covers. Qing’er had eventually rolled over in his sleep and ended up lying on your back. You didn’t get up until the sun was high.”
But several years later, at this Lantern Festival, Xie Jing no longer had the fortune of sleeping peacefully until morning. He was roused by voices from the main tent before the second watch[mfn]Before 9PM.[/mfn] opened his eyes, and saw Lu Lingcong standing at the table, already clad in armor and holding a piece of paper, with Li Qi and the Xu brothers at his side.
He put on his robe and got out of bed, asking, “Is there news of the enemy?”
Lu Lingcong turned around, his expression slightly solemn as he handed him the paper. Li Qi stepped forward to explain: “This is a top-priority urgent dispatch, delivered to the camp in person by a rider who traveled a thousand miles under the Eldest Princess’s orders.”
Xie Jing immediately recognized Lu Lingzhen’s handwriting. There were only a few brief words—the court was fiercely debating a truce, planning to form a marriage alliance with Northen Desert.
He was momentarily stunned, realizing that although the letter was neither a formal imperial edict nor an absolute certainty, Lu Lingzhen, as the sole princess, regardless of her age, and also Lu Lingcong’s own sister, along with the debate, whatever its final outcome, reflected the court’s stance toward the Tiger Division.
Currently, Great Qi held the advantage in the Yongzhou conflict, and Prince Zhao was still winning on the front lines, yet the rear was debating peace and marriage alliance. This was more than just an insult; it clearly went beyond the scope of trouble back home, not only putting Lu Lingcong in the position of a jester but also completely denying the achievements of the Tiger Division and Yongzhou over the past month or so.
Xie Jing pondered the sudden hardening of the court’s attitude, his mind racing as he asked, “Has something major happened at court?”
It could only be an urgent, or rather, an unexpected, sudden situation that caused the capital to change its usual attitude of half-reliance and half-apprehension towards the Tiger Division. Regardless of whether the proposal for a marriage alliance was sincere or feigned, the goal was undoubtedly to force Lu Lingcong to immediately withdraw his troops and return to the capital, preventing his younger sister from being inexplicably tied to a bridal palanquin.
Lu Lingcong shook his head: “The biggest thing on the surface is the marriage alliance, but the imperial edict should arrive in the next few days; perhaps then we can speculate a bit.”
Xie Jing didn’t ask how Lu Lingzhen was able to send someone to tip off the Tiger Division before the imperial edict arrived; even the court’s open and covert schemes had to be set aside for now. The most crucial thing at the moment was that Yongzhou was originally going to be able to relax once spring arrived; the northern people had suffered losses this year and returned almost empty-handed, and they would inevitably have to go back to grazing and recuperating. Winter was nearly over, yet if the Tiger Division were to pull back its troops now, the Yongzhou defenders would undoubtedly lose heart, and it was fearing they would fall prey to exploitation.
The best strategy now should be a final push before being constrained, finding a way to severely damage the morale of the northern people and force them to retreat north earlier than planned, thus securing the situation for at least the next six months.
Xie Jing said, “In that case, it’s best to preemptively strike. Before seeing the emperor’s handwritten decree, we should pretend we don’t know about this matter. After all, in all martial arts, speed is the one thing that never fails. Before the ironclad imperial edict arrives—”
He gave Lu Lingcong a meaningful look; the rest of the sentence should not be said by him, the Princess Consort who had lost his title.
Lu Lingcong glanced back, his eyes profound, and continued, “There will have to be a battle.”
