Xie Jing encountered Lu Lingzhen outside the old Tiger Division’s military camp on Mufu Mountain.
This was the only place in the capital where the Wang family’s servants could not trail him, and Lu Lingzhen had clearly taken that into account when he chose to come to the camp to seek out Xie Jing.
The Xu brothers delivered the message. After the Tiger Division was split, they were no longer Lu Lingcong’s personal guards and instead remained under Xie Jing’s command. With the two of them mediating, Xie Jing faced fewer constraints in handling the camp affairs.
Although most of the soldiers in the camp had never laid eyes on the princess, the presence of a young woman in such a place was far too conspicuous.
Moreover, the former Tiger Division’s camp was unlike the Four Grand Camps; she couldn’t just walk in through the main gate.
As it happened, Xu Yi had come out to the creek to water his horse. Lu Lingzhen recognized him from Prince Zhao’s Mansion, so she tied a note to a short arrow and let it fly; the arrowhead struck with a sharp “ding” and embedded itself in the saddle. The horse remained unaware, but Xu Yi was taken aback.
Upon seeing the note’s content and the Eldest Princess’s seal, he rushed back to report the news to Xie Jing.
After returning to Jinling, Xie Jing had only seen Lu Lingzhen a few times from a distance during the hunting trip at Mount Tang and hadn’t even managed to exchange a single word.
A few days ago, at Jade Terrace, Lu Lingcong was going to tell him about the plan for Lu Lingzhen’s marriage alliance, but Xie Jing fell asleep before he could speak. Later, Cui Shushi arrived, and they discussed serious matters, so the topic never came up again before the end.
Thus, by the time Xie Jing and the court officials heard the rumor, the imperial decree was already settled: the Eldest Princess would enter into a marriage alliance with the Northern Desert, she is to depart the capital soon, and the wedding must be completed before Northern Desert’s winter raid southward.
Last year, the Northern Desert’s harvest around Yongzhou was far less than in previous years. Without the assistance of the Tiger Division, and with signs of severe cold this winter, the border military and populace would likely have to expend more effort to be self-sufficient, and the situation in a genuine conflict would likely be grim.
“The wedding must be completed before the winter raid” was the Northern Desert’s condition, the reason being obvious: while the northern people excelled in warfare, the true aim of “war” was survival; plundering grain, horses, tea, oil, and salt, with general wealth as a secondary target, and they had no immediate intention of seizing territory.
If the Eldest Princess truly entered into a marriage alliance, she would certainly travel with a vast and rich dowry, which could at least provide immediate relief for the needs of the Northern Desert. If border markets could truly be reopened, it would benefit both countries.
This was perhaps the primary reason the court decided to send Lu Lingzhen to the marriage alliance after losing the support of the Tiger Division.
Lu Lingzhen’s memorial petitioning for a worthy husband made the court realize that if they failed to act decisively soon, this chance to ease the strain on border military affairs would slip away.
Everyone in the realm knew that the current emperor’s only legitimate full sister was the Eldest Princess. If Lu Lingzhen were to marry a consort from within the court and they then selected another woman from the imperial clan to be ennobled and sent off in her place, it would likely fail to command the same level of importance or deterrence from the Northern Desert, nor would it offer the strongest protection for the border markets.
Therefore, the emperor ultimately granted Lu Lingzhen’s request, only the chosen “good husband” was not in the capital, but on the frontier a thousand miles away.
“Let me guess,” Xie Jing said, sitting side-by-side with Lu Lingzhen on the pebbles by the stream. “This wouldn’t happen to align perfectly with your wishes, would it?”
Lu Lingzhen nodded, “First, let me escape. Once I’m far away, I’ll have no choice but to ‘disobey the sovereign’s command.'”
Xie Jing looked at her with a slight frown, “What then, after you’ve escaped? You know this isn’t a lasting solution. Once your dowry is spent, how will you get by? By then, without your status safeguarding the border markets between the two nations, if conflict breaks out, our side naturally won’t hold advantage. Sooner or later, the Northern Desert and Great Qi will return to their current state; how will you escape then?”
Lu Lingzhen raised an eyebrow at him and smiled slyly, “That’s why I never intended to let them consume the dowry.”
Xie Jing pondered for a moment, “…Are you planning to stall along the way, dragging things out until the winter raid begins, and ultimately miss the wedding date?”
Lu Lingzhen thought for a moment and nodded, “Once the Northern Desert sends troops south, this marriage contract will be considered broken. It will take at least two months for His Majesty to recall me to the capital, which is enough time for me to act first and report later, just like… three years ago, when my brother left the capital suburbs overnight with the Tiger Division, swiftly put down the rebellion, and then directly garrisoned his troops at the Huai River.”
“And then what? Stay in Yongzhou?”
“Then stay in Yongzhou.” Lu Lingzhen lowered her head, looking at her reflection in the stream. “I want to guard Yongzhou City… just as my brother did. What my brother did last year, I will do in his place this year.”
“But this is not an easy task, Zhenzhen,” Xie Jing looked at her and said. “You know the inside story from back then; the ones causing trouble in Huaibei were refugee rebels, whose fighting power cannot be compared to the Northern Desert’s cavalry. Moreover, although the Tiger Division was not the size it is now, it still had several times the number of troops compared to the Hewei. Furthermore, the Tiger Division has experienced countless battles, large and small, over the past three years, while the Hewei have been stationed in the capital all along. How can you transform a secret guard force, which relies on solitary action and individual combat, into an iron cavalry that advances and retreats in perfect unity?”
Lu Lingzhen said, “I considered everything you mentioned, Saosao—or rather, I had already considered it three years ago. The Northern Desert’s cavalry is formidable, which is why their winter raids consistently target Yongzhou in the Yellow River bend, a region flat and open to movement. In contrast, our empire relies primarily on infantry, and the surrounding cities are either unable or too slow to reinforce in time. Over the years, this has turned the area into a persistent frontier vulnerability. From the moment I received the Hewei military tally, I’ve been thinking, even if I could train an elite iron cavalry, how should I face the huge disparity in numbers and experience?”
“Have you figured out a solution?”
Lu Lingzhen blinked, “Let me keep you in suspense for now. If it proves effective, you will know when you read the victory reports, Saosao.”
Xie Jing was silent for a long time, then stroked the top of her head, “Very well. Your brother should have told you that He Gao, the Prefect of Yongzhou, is his former teacher and was also the benefactor who sheltered Ningning and me; you can rely heavily on him. If you have any indecision in deploying your troops, you must discuss it with him.”
During the three years of chaos, everyone in this household endured hardship. Lu Lingcong’s injuries are plain to see, but hidden from view; what did the once-naïve little princess give up when she shouldered the responsibility of protecting her mother and nephew?
Xie Jing looked at her radiant, lively features. Lu Lingzhen resembled her brother in striking ways; she not only carried a refined, unmistakable beauty that stood out in any crowd, but also the innate dignity and imperial bearing of someone born into the royal family.
There is a saying that “a niece resembles her paternal aunt.” Having watched Lu Lingzhen grow from a child to a girl and now into a young woman, Xie Jing couldn’t help but think of his own daughter. Would she also share a similar fate with every one of her female elders?
“Zhenzhen, do you still remember Lady Yao?”
Lu Lingzhen looked over, slightly surprised, “Of course I remember. Lady Yao was cheerful, generous, and kind. When we went to Wuyi Lane to play back then, we all loved to cling to her.”
Xie Jing gave a faint smile and nodded, murmuring, “My sister-in-law is a very, very good lady. She treats me like her own brother. When I was suddenly ordered to become your brother’s Princess Consort, there were many things I had no clue about that I learned from her. I learned from her how to be a wife, how to be a mother… and of course, how to be a sister-in-law.”
“From the day I married your brother, I have also regarded you as my own sister, Zhenzhen.” Xie Jing reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I also need to thank you for taking care of Qing’er and Ningning for me.”
Lu Lingzhen nestled her head in his embrace, “My Saosao is also the best, very best Saosao.”
Xie Jing gently patted her: “My elder brother and sister-in-law are both gone. Of my closest family members, only you remain now.”
“I know, Saosao, I know.” Lu Lingzhen turned sideways and embraced Xie Jing, holding him like she used to when she relied on him to tell her stories as a child. “But you and my brother have done enough for me. I just want to do whatever I can for you too. I just want Ningning to at least not have to repeat my fate in the future.”
She raised her hand and waved it in front of Xie Jing, “And I have the amulet that Saosao braided for me, which will bless me with invincibility.”
Xie Jing lowered his eyes and saw that a colorful braided string was tied around her wrist. It was the one he had braided for her to play with on an evening more than ten years ago, when he, Lu Lingcong, and Lu Lingzhen were laughing and playing in Mingluan Hall, and Lu Lingcong had cut the hair ribbon that Lu Lingzhen couldn’t untie, and Xie Jing had picked up the remnants.
He gently rubbed her cheek with pity, then looked up to gaze at the scattered campfires across the stream and the vast, pale gray shadow of Mufu Mountain in the night. Farther away, in the unseen distance, was the primordial Taichu Palace, standing eternally.
He whispered to her like a true elder brother to his sister, “I have already lost too many loved ones, Zhenzhen. I cannot afford to lose any of you anymore.”
The passage of time inside Mingluan Hall was hazy, slow, and stagnant, like in every palace within Taichu Palace. The cycle of seasons was insignificant here. Princes, princesses, eunuchs, and palace attendants either grew up or aged within those walls before eventually departing, or else their fates became unknown. In the end, only the palace mistress remained, watching her youth fade in the mirror as she recalled the fresh hibiscus blossoms she had first seen when she entered the palace in her younger days.
But Lady Wu was not a person prone to reminiscing. As the highest-ranking consort to the Crown Prince, she had long since learned to look ahead. Everything she concerned herself with was starkly practical: her two young grandchildren, her eldest son standing at the center of the storm, her isolated and powerless daughter-in-law, and, of course, her daughter who was determined to marry far away.
On the day Lu Lingzhen was born, Lady Wu had already foreseen it: her son would belong to her country, while her daughter would belong to another. Over the years, Lu Lingzhen followed her gifted brother and sister-in-law, learning both civil and military skills in full. She was not a docile daughter, nor could she be considered a proper princess.
Lady Wu still remembered the year Lu Lingzhen turned eighteen. She finally won against Lu Lingcong in one of the countless sparring matches they had since childhood, disarming him neatly and decisively. She knew Lu Lingcong would not go easy on his sister; he had always treated her as an equal, a respected opponent, teaching and guiding her to where she was today.
At that time, all the younger generation had gathered in the courtyard. Lu Shuning, who was still only a toddler, was held in Xie Jing’s arms, clapping her tiny hands and cheering with babbling cries. Driven by the excitement, Lu Lingzhen took Lu Lingcong’s sword, twirled a pair of swift figures, and declared to Lu Shuqing, who was watching the outcome, “Don’t follow your father starting tomorrow; he is already my defeated subordinate!” Lu Lingcong merely stood aside with his arms crossed while gazing at her with an indulgent smile.
Lady Wu sat inside the hall, silently taking notes of this scene. She thought this moment might not last forever, but she hoped that the special and mysterious rules of time in Mingluan Hall could freeze it, keeping it fresh for ten years.
In subsequent matches, the brother and sister had alternating victories and defeats. Lu Lingzhen did not win often, but Lady Wu slowly realized that be it Mingluan Hall, Hanzhang Hall, or Taichu Palace, one day, none of them would be able to contain this great swan whose reputation reached the heavens.
After the marriage alliance became certainty, Lu Lingzhen came to Mingluan Hall and knelt before her, begging for her forgiveness for the sin of unfilial piety.
She said, “I was born an imperial daughter, and it is difficult to shake off the shackles that the title ‘Eldest Princess’ imposes on me, but I also do not want to simply resign myself to fate.”
I do not need to lament, ‘Sending a concubine’s body to secure the state, not knowing where to employ a general.’ I also bear the surname Lu. From childhood, I have studied the Six Arts, both civil and military, and in no respect do I fall behind my elder brother or younger brother. Why should I wait for a general to secure the state? I can be the general myself.
Lady Wu sat upright, propped on her elbows. The dusk’s fading light fell across the gold threads of her skirt, flickering like scattered sparks. Lu Lingzhen’s shadow stretched across her knees. At that moment, she understood the weight of the phrase “providing joy and support to one’s parents”—if her daughter was not happy, she could not find happiness in her company either.
She understood both her children very well. Although they would not admit it, they both possessed the most characteristic traits of the imperial family. Their desires were often ardent and passionate, and their refusals were often meticulously stubborn.
Just as Lu Lingcong once complained to her that he did not want to marry a stranger whom he had barely met as his wife, he also once confessed to her honestly that he could not live without Xie Jing.
Lady Wu helped Lu Lingzhen stand up. The afterglow of the sunset spilled onto her face, the fine lines and signs of hardship were gently softened by the slanting sun as if painted with a delicate brush, faintly dissolving into the light.
“Go,” she said, raising her hand to shield her eyes, “and before you leave, draw the curtain for me. The rosy light is too dazzling.”
In the seventh month of the fourth year of Jingyu, the Eldest Princess Lu Lingzhen departed for a marriage alliance with the Northern Desert. Her dowry was vast and magnificent, and she was accompanied by thousands of attendants and female officials. The emperor, along with civil and military officials, escorted the wedding procession to the southwest of Jinling City and held a farewell banquet at Laolao Pavilion.
The couplet inscribed on the pavilion featured the line from Li Bai’s poem, “The most sorrowful place under heaven is Laolao Pavilion, where guests are seen off.” Unfortunately, it was not spring, so there were no green willow branches to break off as a traditional farewell gift.
Consort Dowager Wu could not leave the palace precincts, so Lu Lingzhen had already bid farewell to her mother before leaving the palace gate. Lu Lingcong was originally supposed to ride on horseback behind the emperor’s carriage, but the emperor tacitly allowed him to bring his children to accompany her inside her carriage all the way out of the city.
Lu Shuqing had almost developed an instinctive habit regarding the matter of “separation.” He had even prepared himself to bid a final farewell to his mother, let alone his consistently reliable aunt, who kept her word and promised him with a smile that she would miss his birthday this year but would definitely be back to celebrate it with him next year.
Upon learning that Lu Lingzhen was going to the place where she had lived for three years, Lu Shuning seriously opened up and detailed every novelty she had explored in that frontier town.
She wrapped her arms around Lu Lingzhen’s neck, sat in her lap cheek-to-cheek, and said softly, “Yongzhou is very cold. Aunt can eat lamb soup dumplings to keep warm. My mother doesn’t like them, but I do. The chef at Grandfather Prefect’s residence makes the best ones, you can’t find anything like them on the street.”
Lu Lingcong listened to his daughter recounting the three years he was absent from her and her mother’s lives. Xie Jing had clearly never instilled hardship or hatred in Lu Shuning. She genuinely loved her time in Yongzhou yet displayed a composure beyond her years when bidding farewell.
The young girl’s way of engaging with the world was calm, forgiving, and accepting—“anything is fine,” a rare disposition within the entire family. Her relatives could not find anyone to compare her to in their assessments, and in the end had to concede that she was simply herself.
In this cramped carriage sat four people sharing the same surname; two pairs of biological siblings, alike yet different, bound together by a common fate through both fortune and hardship.
After drinking the farewell wine within the pavilion, the emperor was meant to place the bridal veil over the Eldest Princess. However, Lu Lingzhang took half a step back and still handed the task to Lu Lingcong instead, “Imperial Elder Brother should do it.”
Lu Lingcong and Lu Lingzhen stood facing each other. He had imagined this scene countless times. In his imagination, the person who took Lu Lingzhen’s hand had only a vague face, but his younger sister was radiant and shimmering with beauty in her glances.
Later, he often wondered whether that person had ever truly existed. Perhaps he had merely been returning Lu Lingzhen, who seemed to have broken free of her fate, back into the hands of destiny, to await the rule and arrangement of providence—or perhaps she had never broken free at all from the very beginning.
The crimson silk, drawn down by tassels, slipped over the resplendent phoenix coronet, sealing those lively black eyes into a still, red-tinted haze.
As Lu Lingzhen’s face completely vanished from his sight, Lu Lingcong softly made a solemn promise, “When our General Jianwei returns victorious, Gege will certainly let you be the most free and unrestrained princess in all the world.”
