76
Fuzhou’s yamen, main courtyard.
A bitter medicinal scent lingered in the air from recently burned herbs. Mu Peixuan didn’t slow his steps as he strode quickly through the crescent-shaped archway, his eyes immediately landing on the lime scattered across the ground.
His heart tightened.
In the courtyard, two attendants with cloths covering their faces stood guard. They were Mu Peizhi’s personal guards. When they saw Mu Peixuan, armor intact, drenched in blood, they froze in surprise. “Your Highness…”
Mu Peixuan raised a foot to walk past them, but one of the guards stepped forward to block his path and said, “Your Highness, you mustn’t—”
Mu Peixuan replied, “Move aside.”
He fixed them with a stare. The guards hesitated, then one of them lowered his voice and said, “Lord Marquis has contracted the epidemic. You must not cross the beaded curtain.”
Hearing once more that Mu Peizhi had contracted the epidemic, Mu Peixuan felt a sharp twitch between his brows, and his limbs turned cold. He didn’t even know how he had made it to the yamen. All that echoed in his mind was: What was Xu Ying saying? How could Li Yue be dead? How could his elder brother possibly have contracted the epidemic?
Those few fragmented words alone made it impossible for Mu Peixuan to breathe. He stood in a daze as Xu Ying broke down in tears, his own thoughts tangled and unable to grasp what was happening.
Just then, Zhou Ting arrived in haste, having heard the Black-armored Iron Cavalry had arrived to support them. He had meant to speak, but when he saw one of them sobbing and the other standing there in a daze, his chest clenched, and the words caught in his throat.
Mu Peixuan turned to Xu Ying and asked, “What did you say?”
Xu Ying let out a choked sob, grief overwhelming him, he couldn’t repeat it.
Zhou Ting drew in a deep breath and said, “Your Highness… you should see Lord Marquis first.”
Mu Peixuan slowly turned his gaze toward Zhou Ting, whose temples had turned white, he looked as though he had aged ten years since the campaign began.
It took Mu Peixuan a long time before he found his voice again. He sounded far too calm for someone who had just received devastating news. He said, “Alright.”
The door was tightly shut. Mu Peixuan pushed it open, and a strong medicinal smell rushed out to greet him. Charcoal was still burning in the room, carrying a suffocating heat laced with the metallic tang of blood.
The beaded curtain hung low. Mu Peixuan felt as though his feet had grown roots, he couldn’t take a single step forward, as if something monstrous and terrifying lay beyond the curtain.
From inside came short, labored breaths, weak and drawn out, interspersed with painful bouts of coughing.
Mu Peixuan stared blankly, frozen in place. It felt like something was stuck in his throat, making it impossible to breathe.
“…Who is it?” A hoarse voice came from behind the beaded curtain, it was Mu Peizhi.
Mu Peixuan’s heart sank completely.
He shut his eyes tightly for a moment, then stepped forward and lifted the curtain, calling softly, “Big Brother.”
Mu Peizhi lay in bed, though it had only been a few days, he had already grown much thinner, his face tinged with a sickly pallor. Dazed and feverish, he initially thought he was dreaming when he heard Mu Peixuan’s voice. Opening his eyes, he saw Mu Peixuan, covered in dust and blood. “Peixuan—” As he saw him stepping closer, his voice suddenly rose. “Don’t come any closer… cough, cough, cough!”
Clutching his chest, he gasped sharply for breath. The red rashes on the back of his hand stung Mu Peixuan’s eyes.
“Big Brother…” Mu Peixuan murmured.
Mu Peizhi rested for a moment before finally saying, “I’m fine.”
Then he asked, “How did you get here so quickly?”
He had just asked the question when he remembered that even though the letter was being rushed by fast horses, it would only just be arriving in Ruizhou by now. How could Mu Peixuan possibly be in Fuzhou at this moment?
It seemed that Mu Peixuan was worried about the war in Fuzhou and, unable to rest easy, had left Ruizhou on his own. His heart warmed slightly, though there was also a sense of helplessness.
Mu Peixuan stared fixedly at Mu Peizhi. His elder brother, who was always neat, refined, and full of grace, now looked so disheveled and frail. Mu Peixuan murmured, “How could this be?”
Mu Peizhi looked at him, struggling to sit up in bed. Catching a glimpse of Mu Peixuan unconsciously trying to approach, he shook his head and said, “Don’t come over. I’m done for,” he said. “Ah Xuan, you can’t get hurt as well.”
Mu Peixuan’s expression darkened. “Big Brother, don’t say such things. I brought many physicians from Ruizhou. They may be able to cure the plague.”
Mu Peizhi smiled and said, “The fact that you could make it here in time, I can finally rest easy.”
Mu Peixuan pressed his lips together, silent.
Mu Peizhi looked at Mu Peixuan and asked, “Have you encountered the rebels in battle?”
Mu Peixuan nodded. “Yes.”
Mu Peizhi leaned back against the headboard and continued, “The leader of the rebels is a general named Sun Qing. His strength cannot be underestimated. There’s also someone wearing a mask, he should be from the Chiluo royal clan.”
“They have a cavalry force, probably about three thousand strong, well-equipped. They’re not ordinary commoners.”
Mu Peixuan replied, “Big Brother, I’ve brought the Black-armored Iron Cavalry with me.”
Mu Peizhi was taken aback. The Black-armored Iron Cavalry was an elite force within the Southern Army, personally commanded by Marquis Annan. Six years ago, during his father’s battle with the Arles tribe, the Black-armored Iron Cavalry suffered significant losses. To keep Marquis Annan’s forces hidden, his father took great care to cover up the loss, and since then, there had been no more Black-armored Iron Cavalry in the southern border.
Later, before his father’s passing, he handed over half of the imperial tiger seal to Mu Peizhi, along with the mysterious iron token used to command the Black-armored Iron Cavalry. His father left a final command: the Black-armored Iron Cavalry should never be mobilized unless it was a matter of life or death.
Mu Peixuan had originally not planned to use the Black-armored Iron Cavalry, but given his concerns about the internal and external threats to Fuzhou and the lack of the tiger seal in his hands, with both Zhou Ting and Mu Peizhi stuck in Fuzhou, he could not gather additional forces. In the end, he decided to summon the Black-armored Iron Cavalry and bring them to Fuzhou.
Mu Peizhi said, “It’s good that you brought them. There’s no need to worry too much about Liangdu, as long as we keep Zhao Qianhou’s mouth shut.” He paused for a moment, then added, “This person is greedy and afraid of death, with a narrow mind. If he learns that I’ve contracted the plague, he may cause more trouble.” He looked at Mu Peixuan with a sharp gleam in his eyes, and said, “If we can’t control him, let him stay in Fuzhou forever.”
Mu Peixuan gazed at Mu Peizhi and replied, “Alright.”
The two brothers fell silent. Mu Peizhi watched Mu Peixuan’s composed face for a long while before saying, “I’m sorry, Ah Xuan, about Li Yue…”
Mu Peixuan paused for a moment, lowered his eyes, and said, “This has nothing to do with you, Big Brother.”
He added, “Blood for blood, I’ll make those rebels pay for it.”
Mu Peizhi, exhausted and unwell, gave a few final instructions before telling Mu Peixuan to go rest for a while. Mu Peixuan, seeing the sickness etched deep between his elder brother’s brows, silently withdrew from the room.
Xu Ying had set up a mourning hall for Li Yue in his own courtyard. The coffin rested there, and Mu Peixuan stood outside the entrance for a long time before finally stepping into the courtyard.
The doors of the main hall stood open, white mourning banners were draped throughout the courtyard, and at the center stood a single coffin.
Mu Peixuan clenched his fists tightly, his gaze locked on that coffin. For a soldier, dying on the battlefield was considered the most honorable end, but even so, he had never imagined that the one to fall… would be his own brother.
Mu Peizhi was nine years older than Mu Peixuan. The age gap, along with the presence of Old Madam Zhang, meant the brothers were never particularly close. From the moment he became aware of things, Mu Peixuan had followed his father into the military camp, where he met Xu Ying, Yu Jing, Xu Fangyi, and Li Yue. Though Li Yue wasn’t the oldest among them, he was the most thoughtful and mild-mannered, never once losing his temper with any of them.
Mu Peixuan remembered how, due to his background, Li Yue had initially been cautious around them. But with years of camaraderie and shared battles, they’d grown as close as true brothers.
Now, Yu Jing had been taken to Liangdu in custody, Xu Fangyi had followed, and Li Yue… had left this world.
That winter hunting trip at the manor now felt like a distant dream.
He took a deep breath, then finally stepped into the hall. Xu Ying sat stiffly on a chair beside the coffin, staring blankly at it. When he saw Mu Peixuan, he abruptly stood up.
The two of them remained silent.
Xu Ying’s eyes reddened again, unable to hold back his grief.
Mu Peixuan reached out and gently ran his fingers over the coffin. Xu Ying said in a hoarse voice, “This is the best coffin I could find in all of Fuzhou City. I don’t know how long it’ll be before we can return to Ruizhou… I had no choice but to seal it for now. Once we’ve won this war, we’ll bring Li Yue home…”
He rambled on, his voice trembling with suppressed sobs.
Mu Peixuan asked, “Who killed him?”
Through gritted teeth, Xu Ying replied, “…Sun Qing. And that sneaky Arles tribesman.”
“Sun Qing cut off Li Yue’s hand, that damn foreigner—” The scene of the silver spear piercing Li Yue’s chest seemed to replay in his mind, almost making him grind his teeth to dust. After a long pause, he gripped the coffin lid and slammed it down heavily, saying, “It’s my fault. If I had returned sooner… Peixuan, Li Yue died to save me. He stayed behind to block Sun Qing… as a rearguard…”
“If I had come back sooner, maybe Li Yue wouldn’t have died. He could have lived…”
Xu Ying’s words became disjointed, his emotions both agitated and broken. Mu Peixuan raised his eyes, his pupils jet black, stared at Xu Ying, and said, “Xu Ying, wipe your tears.”
Xu Ying froze, gazing at Mu Peixuan through tear-filled eyes.
Mu Peixuan’s expression was cold and firm. “When you’ve avenged Li Yue, when you’ve killed our enemies, it’s not too late to cry.”
77
Ruizhou City.
Silver can make the devil push the millstone. In the three days since Mu Peixuan’s departure, the Duan family’s convoy gradually delivered the medicinal herbs and grains collected from various states near Ruizhou to the city. Duan Linzhou also offered a high price to hire any physicians willing to travel to Fuzhou. Not many came, some for honor, some for reputation, and others for profit. After going through the list of candidates, Duan Linzhou wasn’t entirely satisfied, but he could only make do with what he had.
After all, the plague itself was enough to make people quail in fear, not to mention leaving their homeland to go to a war-torn place.
Duan Linzhou had finished preparing everything and was about to leave Ruizhou with the Duan family’s convoy when, just as he reached the city gate, another carriage approached.
It was Old Physician Ji.
Duan Linzhou had been exhausted these past few days and was dozing off in the carriage when Liu Guang shook him awake. He poked his head out and saw the white-haired, youthful-looking physician. He was momentarily stunned. “Old Physician Ji,” he joked, “Have you come to see me off?”
Old Physician Ji glared at him and got straight to the point. “I’m going to Fuzhou with you all.”
Duan Linzhou looked past him at the middle-aged man behind him, it was Old Physician Ji’s eldest son. Meeting Duan Linzhou’s gaze, the man gave a bitter smile and shook his head. “Father insists on going…”
Old Physician Ji harrumphed and grumbled, “Judging by the physicians you’ve found, who knows if they’re even competent? I already treated patients with the epidemic while in Ruizhou. Though I haven’t found a complete cure yet, I’m far more capable than any of them.”
He cast a sideways glance at Duan Linzhou and said, “You brat, going far and wide to find physicians yet not once coming to Huichun Hall to look for me, do you look down on this old man?”
Duan Linzhou replied helplessly, “Your medical skills are unmatched, how would I dare look down on you? It’s just that Fuzhou is far, and we don’t know the full extent of the epidemic there yet. You are, after all—”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but Old Physician Ji already understood what he meant. The old man sneered, “Even if I’ve got one foot in the grave, I’m still healthier than you, who’s already got a toe past death’s door.”
With that, he tilted his chin and said, “Enough talk. Don’t waste time, let’s go.”
Duan Linzhou looked at Old Physician Ji, then at the old man’s son, who had already dismounted the carriage. After a moment, he sighed and said, “Old Physician Ji, your righteousness is admirable.”
Old Physician Ji said, “Bullsh*t, brat from the Duan family. Even if you weren’t going to Fuzhou, I was planning to go myself in the next few days. This old physician just figured, since you’re heading there, I might as well come along, it saves me the trouble of you collapsing from exhaustion halfway and wasting all the years of effort that this old physician put into treating you.”
Old Physician Ji was stubborn by nature. Once he set his mind on something, no one in the Ji family could stop him, so they had no choice but to let him go.
At the time of parting, Old Physician Ji’s son cupped his hands in a respectful gesture to Duan Linzhou and Old Physician Ji, saying nothing more.
Spring crept in silently, brushing green across the wild grass lining the official road. Duan Linzhou, leading the merchant caravan, bid farewell to the lingering chill of early spring in Ruizhou and set off on the long road to Fuzhou.
Mu Peixuan knew nothing of the matters in Ruizhou.
Perhaps it was Mu Peixuan’s reinforcements that disrupted the rebels’ plan to take Fuzhou in one swift move. The city enjoyed a brief moment of calm. Not only had Mu Peixuan brought the Black-armored Iron Cavalry, but he also delivered provisions, medicine, and physicians, barely managing to ease the tension in the dilapidated temple.
Military Physician Deng, who tested medicine on himself, could not endure it with his body already stricken by the plague. After handing a scroll of notes to Military Physician He, he passed away. To this day, they still had not found an effective cure and could only prescribe cautiously to slow the illness.
Mu Peizhi’s condition was far from optimistic.
Since the campaign began, he had poured every ounce of his strength into it, fearing that failure to reclaim lost territory would lead to displaced people and the disgrace of Marquis Annan Mansion name. The plague struck like a sudden storm, overwhelming him with its force and racking every inch of his body. Even strong medicinal decoctions had little effect.
Mu Peixuan watched with his own eyes as Mu Peizhi grew weaker by the day, saw the plague reduce him to skin and bones, even coughing up blood, an image that involuntarily dragged him back to the memory of his father’s death years ago.
His father had suffered grave injuries on the battlefield. After being dragged out from a heap of corpses, he clung to life for a few more days, but in the end, he still couldn’t be saved.
As usual, Mu Peixuan came to speak with Mu Peizhi. A beaded curtain separated them a few paces apart. Mu Peixuan reported on the infirmary and the city’s defenses in painstaking detail. Perhaps even he hadn’t realized how frequently they had spoken in the past few days, how much more they had talked.
Mu Peizhi listened quietly. When lucid, he would add a word or two; after all, he too was born of a military lineage.
After finishing their talk about official matters, the two brothers fell silent. Mu Peixuan was never one for many words, and he didn’t know what else to say to this older brother. After a while, he suddenly heard Mu Peizhi say, “Peixuan, do you know why I wanted you to marry Duan Linzhou back then?”
Mu Peixuan was taken aback and looked at Mu Peizhi.
Mu Peizhi was sitting up against the headboard, wrapped in thick bedding. His exposed hands were swollen, his complexion pale and gaunt, a heavy air of death hanging about him. He looked at Mu Peixuan, eyes showing a trace of remorse, and said, “Last year — or rather, the year before that, there was a flood in Ruizhou. Governor Yu and I submitted a memorial to the court, hoping they would allocate silver for disaster relief…”
His voice was weak, interrupted now and then by coughing. Mu Peixuan picked up the thread, saying, “I remember. The court refused.”
Mu Peizhi said, “Indeed, that 200,000 taels was not easy to obtain; it was the life-saving funds for Ruizhou. Both Governor Yu and I took it very seriously. Later, the courier from the court carrying the disaster relief funds sent an urgent letter, saying they were ambushed by bandits on the road and asking us to send troops to escort them.”
“I was worried there might be a mistake, so I personally went to receive the funds,” Mu Peizhi exhaled and continued, “I did manage to get the funds, and they even opened the boxes of silver to show me. But, unexpectedly, as soon as we entered Ruizhou, the silver disappeared.”
Mu Peixuan, ever sharp, immediately sensed something was wrong. He furrowed his brow and whispered, “How could this happen?”
Mu Peizhi let out a bitter laugh. “I thought the same at the time, ‘How could this happen?’ But the silver really did disappear, vanishing into thin air, right under my nose, within the boundaries of Ruizhou.”
Mu Peixuan asked, “What happened after that?”
Mu Peizhi said, “The loss of the disaster relief silver was no small matter. The courier claimed that we had used bandits as an excuse to embezzle the funds. After some back and forth, they demanded that we find the 200,000 taels within three days.”
At this point, he looked up at Mu Peixuan and continued, “Three days, they had already meticulously plotted this. The disaster relief silver certainly wasn’t something we could easily find.”
Mu Peixuan’s heart shifted slightly. Indeed, he listened as Mu Peizhi said, “It was when we were at our wits’ end that Duan Linzhou approached me.”
“He said he could help us retrieve the lost silver,” Mu Peizhi explained. “The condition was that I had to promise him one thing.”
Mu Peixuan asked, “Did you agree?”
Mu Peizhi replied, “Yes, but I never expected that a year later, when he came knocking again, what he wanted was for me to arrange for you to marry him.”
“He even holds onto the contract we signed back then,” Mu Peizhi said. “He even used the threat of Marquis Annan Mansion. He’s someone on the brink of death, a madman with no regard for anything. I had no choice but to agree.”
“Regardless of how things stand now, in the end, it was I who wronged you.”
Mu Peixuan had never imagined such a twisted turn of events. He looked at Mu Peizhi’s gaunt, pale face, shook his head, and said, “I should be thanking you for facilitating my marriage to Duan Linzhou.”
Mu Peizhi was momentarily stunned, then coughed a few times, covering his lips. After a long pause, he exhaled in relief and said, “This is good… this is good.”
“However, he is a merchant, and merchants value profit. You—” Mu Peizhi wanted to advise Mu Peixuan to be cautious, but when the words reached his mouth, for some reason, he could not bring himself to say them.
After a moment, Mu Peizhi spoke again, his voice soft: “Peixuan, when I’m gone, take care of Jinyu and Jintang for me.”
“Mother…” He looked at Mu Peixuan’s young face, recalling how their mother had favored him over the years. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Don’t hold it against her. After all, she’s our mother.”
Mu Peixuan remained silent.
Mu Peizhi said, “As for your sister-in-law… she’s a kunze. She’s still so young. If she can find a good man in the future, let her remarry.”
“Peixuan, I’m not as good as you,” Mu Peizhi continued after a long pause. Mu Peixuan nearly thought Mu Peizhi had fallen asleep, but then he heard his elder brother speak again, his voice soft and filled with a sense of longing. “I was born in a military family, but I’m not a good general. Even my death wasn’t on the battlefield…”
With a deep sigh, he added, “No wonder Father values you more.”
The next day, Marquis Annan, Mu Peizhi, passed away at the age of 28.
Obrigada pela tradução! 😘