Chapter 111: A Fleeting Glimpse

On the road fleeing for their lives, Wei Ba was the principal figure, while Jin Dongliu could not even be counted as a mere follower; he had only to obey orders. Once they reached Chang’an, Jin Dongliu became a general of the Wei army and received the utmost courtesy, being escorted in to meet Xiahou Mao. Wei Ba’s status, meanwhile, plummeted. There was not even a place for him to sit. He could only squat beside Dunwu near the city gate, idly watching the people coming and going.

Idleness was merely a facade. In such perilous circumstances, where his life could be threatened at any moment, Wei Ba was like a wary rabbit forced to pretend complete calm. Only he knew what that truly felt like. Squatting by the roadside like a vagrant, he appeared careless and unconcerned, but in truth he kept vigilant watch over every movement around him while also observing the state of Chang’an.

Ma Su had once told him that one important reason Zhuge Liang did not wish to seize Chang’an was that the city had already fallen into decline. Its population was sparse, and there were not enough commoners to till the land and support a large army, which would create enormous difficulties in the long war to come. Wei Ba had not entirely believed him before, but after squatting at the city gate until his legs went numb, he had barely seen a handful of people entering or leaving. It was utterly different from the Chang’an he had imagined.

The capital of the Great Han had truly become this desolate?

Two hundred years earlier, and three hundred years later, it had been one of the world’s foremost great cities. Yet now… if not for the ruined but still magnificent walls, who would have imagined that this place was Chang’an?

War was indeed the most powerful force for destroying civilization.

“Move! Move!”

A soldier rapped Wei Ba with the gleaming tip of his spear and barked irritably, “Stand farther to the side. Don’t block the road.”

Wei Ba glanced at the empty avenue, bewildered. Though Chang’an had been ravaged, the surviving ruins still left people speechless, just as even the burned ruins of the Old Summer Palace could not conceal the grandeur they had once possessed. The roads of Chang’an were extraordinarily broad, comparable to any avenue Wei Ba remembered. The main road outside the city gate divided into three routes, each leading to one of the three gates, and every route was wide enough for four carriages to travel abreast. Besides, there was hardly anyone around now, and he was squatting by the roadside. Whose way could he possibly be blocking?

Before he could recover, Dunwu had already dragged him a little farther back with a smile plastered across his face. The speed with which he changed expressions astonished Wei Ba. He had never imagined that Dunwu, who was always coldly affecting an air of aloofness, could smile so sweetly and ingratiatingly. He looked nothing like a merciless assassin of extraordinary skill; he could almost pass for a wealthy woman’s kept young lover.

He truly was an elite among scouts.

Standing with his back against the wall, Wei Ba saw a procession slowly approaching the city walls in the distance. Only when it drew nearer did he realize that two fully armed cavalrymen were riding at the front. One hand held the reins, while the other gripped a long halberd. Brightly colored ribbons were tied to the gleaming weapons, making it clear that they were not merely instruments of slaughter but ceremonial symbols of rank.

Behind them marched two columns of infantry, ten men to a column. All wore the same standard lamellar armor as the soldiers at the gate, along with red war robes. The guards at the gate, however, wore armor so battered that they looked like beggars, whereas these men were bright-helmeted, polished-armored, and full of vigor.

At the center of the procession was a large carriage. It was painted a glossy black, with dark-red intertwining vine patterns traced across its surface. The wheels were vermilion, and blue curtains hung on all four sides, concealing whoever sat within. Four young and beautiful maids walked beside it, carrying spittoons and other items for personal cleanliness. Their handsome faces were solemn, their gazes fixed straight ahead—clearly they came from a wealthy household governed by strict rules.

A long retinue followed behind the carriage. Wei Ba could not count them all at a glance, but what he had already seen was enough to leave him astonished. The two mounted attendants leading the procession alone were sufficient to display the extraordinary status of the carriage’s occupant. With his shallow knowledge of ritual hierarchy, Wei Ba could roughly guess that the person inside held at least the rank of Two Thousand Bushels—and was a Two Thousand Bushels official with considerable real power.

“Who is it?” Wei Ba asked Dunwu in a whisper, turning his head slightly.

“Don’t speak. Lower your head,” Dunwu warned him, a trace of tension in his voice.

Only then did Wei Ba realize that he had been gambling with his life. In this age of rigid hierarchy, given his present status, looking directly at that carriage was an unforgivable offense. He hurriedly lowered his head. At that very moment, he saw the curtain of the carriage being drawn open a crack, revealing half a face.

Half a face was enough to astonish anyone.

Skin pale with a healthy flush, slender willow-leaf brows, and long, fair fingers. No rouge had been applied to the nails, yet they shone with the soft, youthful luster of jade. At the corner of the red lips that appeared for an instant behind the curtain, the color was vivid and natural, without the slightest trace of cosmetics.

“Damn, a completely natural beauty.”

Wei Ba stared for a moment, thinking to himself, If the other half of that face is anything like that little girl Peng Xiaoyu’s, then this is the perfect version of Peng Xiaoyu.

As Wei Ba stood there in astonishment, the young woman also noticed him, conspicuous as a crane among the people bowing their heads. Her eyes flickered, and she quickly lowered the curtain. Wei Ba came to his senses as well. He immediately dropped his gaze and put on the appearance of an obedient subject, then cautiously glanced around. When he saw that no one had noticed him, he pressed his palms together in silent relief.

He did not see that the curtain had been opened once more, just a narrow slit. Behind it, a pair of lovely eyes filled with faint curiosity watched his every movement. Her willow-leaf brows drew together slightly; her clear black-and-white eyes shifted once, and her long lashes fluttered twice.

“Yuanrong, what is it?” the Qinghe Princess asked in puzzlement when she saw the girl lost in thought.

The girl smiled faintly. “Nothing. Seeing Chang’an in such decline is simply disappointing.”

The Qinghe Princess glanced at her and smiled. “Prosperity is always followed by decline. No one can escape it. What is there to be disappointed about?”

The girl gave a soft snort, seemingly lost in thought. “Indeed. If even a city is subject to such changes, how can people endure them? Prosperity and decline follow one another in endless cycles. Who can ever escape?”

The Qinghe Princess frowned. She reached out and placed her hand over the girl’s delicate fingers, urging her gently, “Yuanrong, you are still so young. How can you entertain such thoughts? Though your father died in the prime of life, your elder brother is exceptionally talented. In a few years, he will be able to restore the family fortunes. There is no need to worry. Besides, although the Xiahou family does not bear the imperial surname, ever since the founding emperor, the Xiahou family has never been treated as outsiders. As long as the Great Wei stands, no one will dare bully your family.”

The girl smiled faintly. “Naturally. I have merely been overthinking things.”

“Mm. I know you have worries of your own. Alas, the mourning period for your father has not yet ended, and the General of the Flying Cavalry has suffered a defeat. I suppose your marriage will have to be postponed a little longer, though it will not be for long. Once your father’s mourning period is over, I shall speak to His Majesty and arrange for you to marry.”

A blush spread across the girl’s face. She turned away. “Princess, I am still in mourning for my father. How could I possibly be thinking of marriage? I…”

The Qinghe Princess laughed and patted her hand. “All right, all right. I know our gifted lady is worried about the affairs of the realm, not her own marriage. Unlike that useless uncle of yours, who spends every day practicing some so-called dual-cultivation technique. He claims he wishes to attain immortality, but in truth he is merely greedy for beautiful women. Hmph!”

The Qinghe Princess had been laughing happily, but the moment she mentioned her husband, Xiahou Mao, all her cheer vanished. Killing intent filled her well-maintained face. Three new furrows appeared on her forehead, and the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth deepened as she pressed her lips together.

…

General Xiahou Mao of Anxi, who was reclining listlessly on a couch and speaking with Jin Dongliu, suddenly shuddered. He sat upright at once, alarm written across his face.

Jin Dongliu was startled and hurriedly fell silent, watching Xiahou Mao nervously. Xiahou Mao waved a hand to indicate that it had nothing to do with him. He rose, one hand clasped behind his back and the other massaging his temple. After pacing back and forth twice, he suddenly remembered something and hurried to the doorway.

“Where has the Princess’s carriage reached?” he asked the guard standing outside.

The guard bowed and replied, “Someone just reported that it has reached the outskirts of the city. It should be arriving soon.”

Xiahou Mao’s face fell. He said impatiently to Jin Dongliu, “In that case, stay in Chang’an for two days first. I will send a written inquiry to Wancheng. If everything is as you say, I shall send you back myself.”

Without waiting for Jin Dongliu to answer, he hurriedly put on his shoes and left. Watching Xiahou Mao’s somewhat flustered back, Jin Dongliu guessed that he was worried about the arrival of his wife, the Qinghe Princess. He said nothing more and followed a minor clerk outside.

Xiahou Mao had no mind to concern himself with Jin Dongliu at present, but the clerks knew that Jin Dongliu was indeed a general of the Wei army and did not dare neglect him. They led him to the post station and settled him there. Jin Dongliu then asked the same clerk to go to the city gate and fetch Wei Ba and Dunwu. Until he left Chang’an, he could still look after Wei Ba for a little longer.

Following the clerk to the post station, Wei Ba happened to see the luxurious carriage stopped before the main entrance of the Governor’s Residence. Only then did he realize that the people inside must be members of Xiahou Mao’s household, and that the beautiful young woman he had glimpsed might be Xiahou Mao’s daughter.

He casually glanced at the carriage and saw a middle-aged man hurrying out through the gate. Although he could not see the man’s expression or hear what he was saying, his exaggerated gestures made it clear that he was somewhat nervous.

Who could this be, to make Xiahou Mao so nervous? Could it be that she was not his daughter?

Before Wei Ba could figure it out, the clerk gave an impatient snort. Shoving him inside, he said, “Get in! This place is next to the Governor’s Residence, and nobles come and go constantly. Keep your eyes and your mouth under control. Do not look at what you should not look at, and do not say what you should not say. Stay quietly inside and do not cause trouble. If something happens, no one will be able to protect you.”

“Yes, yes!” Wei Ba answered meekly, his face covered in an ingratiating smile.

At the city gate, he had nearly been run through by a spear simply because he had looked at the procession. After that painful lesson, he now understood his situation perfectly.