Since the day Lu Lingcong led his troops into Yongzhou, when he casually encountered a certain noble of the Northen Desert royal court in the fortress and stabbed the man off his horse, the main force of the Northern people had continuously been commanded by a Han general named Ding Jian. This person seldom fought; the only time was when Lu Lingcong had accidentally encountered him, and the clash ended inconclusively, with one seizing a helmet and the other a hand halberd.
According to the scout reports, Ding Jian’s personal guards were all Northern people, but the man himself was little known, his origin and background were hard to trace, and it was unclear how he stood out and managed to make a crowd of barbarians willingly serve him.
However, this also provided a convenient prerequisite for this battle—Han people speculating Han people was always more accurate than probing the thoughts of foreign tribes. The concept of “Different lands share the same sky and wind and moon[mfn]A poetic expression of human commonality.[/mfn]” might not be a guarantee of certainty, but it was often mutually understood among Han people.
According to the deployment, the advance towards Ding Jian’s main tent tonight was to be divided into four routes. He Gao will lead the Yongzhou city defenses from the front, while the remaining Tiger Division forces, with Li Qi in the east and Deputy General Tan Yue in the west, covertly maneuvered to envelop the enemy’s flanks. While Lu Lingcong will lead Prince Zhao’s personal guards, each worth a hundred men, to move with speed and lightness along a perilous route through the Gobi to strike at the enemy’s rear. Forming such an ambush and encirclement, with signal horns communicating between them and providing support from all four directions, they ought to be able to achieve a complete annihilation in one fell swoop.
The enemy remained in the dark while they were exposed; with no way of knowing whether the capital had spies within Yongzhou, Lu Lingcong and Xie Jing dared not hastily join the forces again. The final consensus was that Xie Jing would return to Yongzhou with the dispatching scout, rendezvous with He Gao, and then follow his troops out.
Marching on the winter night of Shuofang was primarily difficult because of the cold. The wind was like a knife, cutting the face, relentlessly freezing people thoroughly from the outside in.
Xie Jing did not have armor or a battle robe and could only temporarily find a set from the army to change into; although it was a bit loose, it was better than wearing nothing. Lu Lingcong could only accompany him to the camp gate. Before he left, he threw his great cloak onto the horse for Xie Jing to wear, said, “Be extremely careful,” and watched him and the scout ride into the distance.
Ding Jian’s camp was deep in the desert, a distance away from Yongzhou City. The fortress area was open and allowed for long-distance views; without the cover of mountains and sandstorms, it would be easily detected. Therefore, He Gao and the others determined their pace based on astronomical phenomena, moving and pausing, only setting up camp behind a mountain more than ten li from their destination after the other three routes were positioned and had sent back confirmation.
He Gao had, after all, once been an old official in the capital. He stared at the obviously extraordinary, imperially bestowed great cloak on Xie Jing for a while, his expression slightly shifting, but he hesitated to speak. Xie Jing sensed his confusion but did not offer an explanation; the truth could not be hidden indefinitely and would eventually come out, so there was no need to rush it now.
The main camp had layers of troops guarding the perimeter, with dense sentry posts forming an integrated defense, making a direct assault difficult to overcome. He Gao said to Xie Jing, “We must wound the enemy fundamentally yet not completely break off relations; otherwise, there will be no future business dealings, and when the court investigates, Yongzhou will still be blamed. The hardest part of this battle is knowing the limit.”
Xie Jing nodded: “The key is to lure him out.”
He Gao pondered for a moment: “I feel that His Highness seems to have some thoughts regarding that Ding Jian.”
It took Xie Jing a moment to respond, he said, “Is My Lord suggesting that His Highness has intentions of offering amnesty and recruitment?”
“Perhaps it is, and perhaps it isn’t,” He Gao said, shaking his head with a bitter smile. “Although I had the relationship between teacher and student with His Highness in the capital, he was only that old then. Now he has surpassed his teacher, and I can no longer fathom his thoughts.”
Xie Jing comforted him, “Since that is the case, My Lord need not take it too much to heart. After all, His Highness has already fought Ding Jian; he has his own plan, you and I only need to trust him.”
He Gao agreed, and then recalling the responsibility of being the vanguard they bore, he asked, “In your opinion, when is the best time to dispatch troops?”
Xie Jing looked into the deep, dark night in the distance and smiled, “No rush.”
In the dead of night, at the third watch, the war drums suddenly sounded.
On the outermost watchtower of the Northen Desert camp, the guards immediately reported the anomaly back to the commanding general, Ding Jian.
Ding Jian was originally Han Chinese, and he used the methods of Han Chinese troop deployment and formation to speculate about Prince Zhao, thinking that it was the New Year’s and Lantern Festival, and the opponent was unlikely to dispatch troops at this time.
Therefore, although he was not slacking, he was not as prepared as usual.
When he received the report just now, he was naturally astonished.
But the elite soldiers and good generals under his command were not just boasting.
In an instant, the Northen Desert soldiers had finished assembling, put on their armor, and were ready to leave the camp to meet the enemy.
He sent scouts to investigate, but they reported back that they only heard the sound of the war drums and saw no Han Chinese troops.
Just as they were wondering, the sound of the war drums suddenly ceased, replaced not by the sound of horse hooves, but by the faint sound of a reed pipe, as if coming from a very distant place. At first, it was barely audible, gradually becoming vaguely discernible as a tune, but still intermittent; its notes threatening to be blown away by any gust of wind.
Ding Jian did not understand music and was completely baffled, but he saw the expressions of his surrounding attendants all change, and they kept silent while listening intently.
After a while, the sound of the reed pipe drew nearer, its melody slow and lingering, neither the refined tunes of the Central Plains nor the bold, rousing music of the frontier.
But the Northen Desert soldiers all showed a look of surprise, thousands of them silent, with mournful expressions.
For a moment, the vast desert was as silent as if uninhabited, and only the mournful sound of the Jia scattered in all directions, carried by the wind straight up to the moon palace.
On the far side of the enemy camp, Lu Lingcong, who had been lying in ambush for some time, paused at the sound. He focused on pinpointing its direction, listened carefully, and before long found himself softly humming the tune in the darkness.
The personal guards on both sides were all startled. They secretly raised their eyebrows and exchanged glances, then boldly asked:
“Your Highness, what tune is that?”
Lu Lingcong did not immediately answer but only finished humming the low, intermittent tune before saying:
“A lullaby.”
He looked in the direction of the Yongzhou defenders in the distance, where lights flickered. “My daughter taught it to me.”
The personal guards choked on their words upon hearing this while exchanging confused looks.
In former years, there was a musician from Northen Desert in Prince Zhao’s Mansion, whose wife was also a servant in the mansion and had served as Lu Shuning’s wet nurse for a year and a half.
Later, although she returned to her hometown with her husband, she taught this lullaby, which was sung by almost every household in Northen Desert, to Lu Shuning, and Lu Shuning sang it so often that everyone in the mansion became familiar with it—which is how Lu Lingcong, who is tone-deaf, managed to learn it.
It was just unknown when Xie Jing had learned this foreign reed pipe—his Jiaowei zither was still hanging on the wall of the study of the Prince’s Mansion.
“It’s just ‘Songs of Chu on all sides,’ a trick to fool children, and they want to try and fool me?”
Ding Jian was annoyed after hearing his subordinates’ explanation, knowing full well it was a scheme, but with the opposite side only making noise and not showing themselves, he was also at his wits’ end. He could only strictly order his soldiers not to be distracted and to remain on standby at all times.
Unexpectedly, the person playing the reed pipe seemed tireless, and the gentle, soothing melody resonated all night, tempting people to sleep yet stirring nostalgic thoughts, until the bright moon sank in the west and dawn approached in the east. Only then did it gradually fade, like a baby tired from crying, finally becoming silent.
Ding Jian cursed under his breath, thinking he had been tricked by that boy surnamed Lu. The opposite side might have merely stationed one person to beat the war drum and another to play the reed pipe, lurking in some hidden corner to sow mischief.
Everyone in the Northen Desert camp sighed in relief. They were physically and mentally exhausted from being tormented by the tune all night and were about to order the cooks to prepare food.
But before the order could even be fully issued, cries of battle erupted all at once, shaking the heavens and instantly shattering the slightly weakened defenses, as troops surged in from all four directions.
Although the Northen Desert soldiers immediately organized themselves and entered the battle, this momentary confusion was enough for them to lose the initiative.
For a time, Han and nomadic troops fought in a confused melee. The Yongzhou city defenders, who were originally the vanguard, now followed He Gao’s order to unknowingly fight and retreat. They appeared to be no match for the elite troops led by Ding Jian, but they were gradually drawing the battlefield away from the Northen Desert camp and toward the open Gobi Desert.
The combat strength of the defenders was naturally far inferior to that of the Tiger Division. The job of “catching a turtle in a jar” wasn’t theirs; they pulled back to the left and right, clearing the way for Li Qi’s and Tan Yue’s two units.
For a while, the Tiger Division’s commands echoed in every direction. The enemy suffered heavy harassment, yet the Tiger Division shifted formations with disciplined precision.
But it had to be admitted that the barbarians were indeed barbarians. Even though the Tiger Division had undergone Prince Zhao’s devil training and every man was exceptionally brave, a head-on clash at this time was still not easy.
As the sky fully brightened, Ding Jian, amid the standoff, spotted a troop of soldiers advancing on the distant horizon, moving like a sweeping wind through scattered clouds. The man leading them was in silver armor and a red robe, draped in the morning glow, and he called out loudly from afar:
“Brother Ding!”
Ding Jian was startled by the sudden call and was immediately both surprised and angry. He spurred his horse forward to meet the challenge.
Lu Lingcong laughed unrestrainedly and threw an object at the opponent with an uplifted arm. Ding Jian caught it in mid-air, only to find it was the hand-halberd that had been taken from him that day.
“Brother Ding, when will you return this prince’s helmet?”
Ding Jian, however, was in no mood for jest. As their weapons clashed, they plunged straight into battle.
The two fought fiercely for a long time with no clear victor. However, the momentum of the Tiger Division was gradually overwhelming the Northern troops. Having no choice, Ding Jian had to command his troops to break out of the encirclement while also having to guard against Lu Lingcong, who was pursuing him relentlessly with his spear.
However, what surprised him was that Prince Zhao, who always led the charge, did not follow up. Instead, he commanded an official to sound the horn and direct the remaining troops to give chase, only glancing back during a brief pause in the fighting to look toward the direction Ding Jian had gone, as if the gaze carried some deeper significance.
It wasn’t that Lu Lingcong was abstinent and didn’t want to claim this achievement. On one hand, he and Ding Jian were evenly matched, and if he couldn’t outright kill or persuade the opponent to surrender, there was no point in continuing the entanglement.
On the other hand, allowing Ding Jian to return was also because when they had previously discussed how to deal with this person in private, Xie Jing had said:
“There must be a reason for a Han person to serve a Rongdi ruler. If we force him to submit, he may yield in body but not in heart, making him difficult for us to use and instead becoming a source of trouble. It is better to understand his background before making any plans.”
Li Qi and others pursued the victory without delay. This time, they struck straight at Ding Jian’s main camp. The defending soldiers suffered nearly half casualties. After commanding the Yongzhou defenders to clear the way, Xie Jing took the opportunity to start a fire, using the morning wind to ignite several rows of tents to store grain and fodder. Having achieved their goal, they immediately ceased fighting and returned to the city as ordered.
In the conference hall of the Prefect’s Mansion, the generals and officials discussed how Yongzhou should be defended after the Tiger Division’s withdrawal and how to prepare military supplies for the next six months. The sun was already high, and it was long past noon when they finally settled on one important matter.
Although it was impossible for the northerners to completely give up and retreat this time, they had been significantly weakened and would surely have many more concerns and hesitations. The morale of the Yongzhou defenders was currently high; as long as they remained calm and held their position steadily, it was highly unlikely that a situation endangering the city would arise again.
Then a servant came in to report that lunch was ready. He Gao was about to invite everyone to move and take their seats, but Lu Lingcong suddenly turned to him and said, “Lord He, there is one more important matter that I must explain to you clearly.”
Seeing his solemn expression, He Gao immediately ordered his attendants to withdraw. Lu Lingcong waved his hand, and several of his deputy generals also tactfully excused themselves.
In just a moment, the hall doors were closed, and only He Gao, Lu Lingcong, and Xie Jing remained in the room.
“Wu Zhi, why don’t you first…” He Gao looked at Xie Jing blankly while politely pointing towards the direction of the door.
Before he could finish speaking, he was taken by surprise as he saw Prince Zhao and Xie Jing half-kneel before him side by side. Before he could even be amazed that Lu Lingcong was holding such a grand ceremony for him, the words spoken by the other froze him in place, leaving him utterly stunned.
“For the great kindness Lord He has shown in taking in my wife and young daughter this past year, my family will surely repay this debt, even to the extent of offering our lives and devotion in the future.”
He Gao’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth but said nothing, first looking at Lu Lingcong, then at Xie Jing, who was also bowing beside him, and he even forgot to retract the hand he had extended to help them up.
“…Your, your wife?”
The only shred of remaining composure allowed Lord He to consider his manners and wording. Instead of pointing at Xie Jing, he just stared blankly at him and confirmed, “You—You are His Highness’s…?”
Xie Jing nodded slightly, bowed again, and said, “I have troubled your mansion for a year and benefited from your protection, yet still had to deceive you, My Lord. I am truly filled with guilt.”
He Gao cried out, “Indeed! I knew I wouldn’t be wrong about that handwriting; you are Xie Jing after all!”
He immediately slapped his thigh as if suddenly enlightened: “This old man should have thought of it earlier! If you reverse the two characters ‘Wu Zhi’, doesn’t that perfectly match the meaning of your courtesy name!”
Coming back to his senses, he quickly helped the two of them up. Lu Lingcong ushered him to the main seat, while he and Xie Jing sat down in the two chairs below. Before sitting down, the latter poured a cup of tea and presented it to He Gao.
Lord He was still in the lingering shock, muttering, “No wonder I always found your daughter’s face familiar. I had chalked it up to fate, never imagining there was this additional bond.”
Xie Jing smiled faintly. “She resembles His Highness more. I must also thank the Madam on Shuning’s behalf for her affection all this time.”
He Gao waved his hand, then suddenly doubted, “If that’s the case, did the Princess Consort intentionally come to Yongzhou to seek refuge with this old man after leaving the capital?”
Xie Jing exchanged a look with Lu Lingcong, lowered his eyes, and replied, “Coming to Yongzhou was accidental, but seeking refuge with you was certainly intentional.”
“In the Prince’s Mansion years ago, Zifeng mentioned to me several times that when he was young, he was taught strategy and martial arts by My Lord and learned various principles for conducting oneself and establishing a life. Unexpectedly, before he could finish his studies, My Lord was demoted and left the capital. He has often taken this to heart over the years. When I arrived in Yongzhou that day and learned that the prefect happened to be My Lord, I thought you must truly be warm-hearted and trust those you employ. Only then did I dare to use a little cleverness to secure a place to settle.”
The relationship between He Gao and Lu Lingcong as teacher and student was not very long before He Gao was demoted for being implicated in an old case. At this moment, he probably did not expect that Prince Zhao would still mention this old matter to Princess Consort. He was filled with emotion and said to Lu Lingcong, “I am grateful for Your Highness’s remembrance.”
Lu Lingcong replied, “I had little influence back then. Seeing what happened to Your Lordships, I was indignant but powerless. I have always regarded it as a matter of regret over the years.”
He Gao sighed, “I’ve made it through this half of my life. I’ve long since learned to let go of what I should. It is the family of Imperial Censor Xie that is truly regrettable.”
Since entering the Prefect’s Mansion, Xie Jing had heard He Gao lament the disaster that befell the Xie family more than once, but at the time, due to his identity, he could not say much.
He probably knew that He Gao and his father had some gentlemanly friendship in earlier years, but they had not met for a long time. The sighing was likely more of a melancholic feeling of sympathy for a comrade’s misfortune or sadness at the fate of things.
Sure enough, He Gao counted on his fingers and said solemnly, “My acquaintance with your esteemed father, if we go back, dates all the way to twenty years ago.”
Xie Jing’s expression remained calm; he only said softly, “What is past cannot be corrected, but the future can be pursued. My Lord and I should both look forward.”
He Gao nodded and asked, “What is Your Highness and the Princess Consort’s next plan—”
Lu Lingcong looked at Xie Jing, who pursed his lips and said, “His Highness is going back. I… have not yet decided.”
He Gao’s wish for Xie Jing to return to the capital was consistently the same: “Go back, you were bound to return sooner or later. The spring light is beautiful in Luoyang city; a talent from Luoyang should not grow old in a foreign land.”
Xie Jing’s eyes flickered. He suddenly raised his head and gazed into He Gao’s slightly aged eyes, saying, “Does My Lord never see the autumn wind and think of the perch and carp?”
He Gao was stunned for a moment and said helplessly, “What use is thinking? With this old and sickly body of mine, I fear I won’t survive to the day I return home.”
Xie Jing cast a questioning look at Lu Lingcong. Lu Lingcong pondered for a moment and nodded slightly to show his approval. Xie Jing then looked fixedly at He Gao, his tone not loud but resolute:
“If My Lord is willing, please wait a little longer, three to five years at most. If not me, then His Highness will personally welcome you back to the capital, so you may live out your remaining years.”
He Gao had not expected these words and was speechless for a while. The room was silent, Lu Lingcong then slowly added, “Even if Your Lordships do not trust me, you can rest assured and fully entrust yourself to the Princess Consort. Whatever he says he will do, he always follows through; Zhiwu has always been like this.”
Xie Jing simply gazed at He Gao with certainty. After a long time, the corners of the latter’s eyes grew slightly moist. He sighed deeply and then said softly, “For Imperial Censor Xie to have a son like this, he can now rest peacefully in the Nine Springs.”
Upon hearing these words, Xie Jing’s eyes showed a momentary blankness. After a long silence, he gave a bitter, whispered smile:
“My Lord praised me too highly. You probably have no idea what a scoundrel I was back then.”
