The smell of blood, the earth smell, the burnt smell of pine-resin torches filled the rain curtain.

Sui Yuanqing, with Changning, dashed through the Yanzhou army formation. Using the horse’s momentum, his long spear swept soldiers aside as he went; Changning’s face was splattered with a good deal of fresh blood, she cried until her voice was hoarse.

Sui Yuanqing’s face also bore bloodstains, yet he smiled wildly and wantonly, even having leisure to tease Changning: “Child, if your father didn’t have the guts to come out to save you, you could just stay in my Changxin Wangfu [Prince Changxin’s Mansion]; my nephew rather likes you, you could be his little maid and that wouldn’t be bad…”

His long spear propped, he unseated another Yanzhou commander from his horse; the spear tip was about to take that commander’s life when, from the slant, a long halberd suddenly thrust out to parry the long spear in his hand, then swung across. Sui Yuanqing hurriedly used the spear shaft to block, yet the force still shook horse and rider back two steps before he steadied himself.

He raised his eyes and met the gaze of the halberd’s owner, a provoking smile curling at his mouth: “I thought the marquis’s noble body would not show himself.”

The original fine, threadlike rain had by now become torrential. Xie Zheng stood in the rain curtain; lightning tore the pitch-black night sky behind him into countless fragments. His soaked cloak dripped down along the horse’s back; the long halberd hung slanted on his back, the halberd blade dripping blood downward. A pair of phoenix eyes looked coldly at Sui Yuanqing, and he did not answer.

When Sui Yuanqing saw the blood on the halberd, he hurriedly turned his head to look at his own arm. Sure enough, a cut had been opened; the rainwater on his clothes had soaked into the wound, and now waves of pain came through.

He frowned—such quick skill.

Xie Zheng sneered coldly: “Dragging a child onto the battlefield, Sui heir truly has good courage.”

Sui Yuanqing was mocked; his expression grew somewhat ugly, but he no longer dallied in battle and directly guided his horse, taking Changning and running back.

Changning had been frightened by the slaughter she had seen that night; she was still dazed, and because it was night she had not recognized who had come. When she heard Xie Zheng’s voice and was driven to run back by Sui Yuanqing, she suddenly cried out: “Brother-in-law—”

She was placed before the saddle by Sui Yuanqing, and still could not help but lean her small body back to look; her eyes were swollen from crying.

Sui Yuanqing pressed the nearly falling child back onto the saddle, but his expression suddenly became a little strange: “What did you call that person just now?”

Seeing Xie Zheng, Changning gained confidence; she glared with her swollen grape-like eyes at the big villain before her and spat fierce words: “My brother-in-law will not let you go!”

Sui Yuanqing had a face as if he had seen a ghost: “So you’re not his daughter at all?”

When Xie Zheng heard Changning’s crying he had already urged his horse to pursue. The deputy general who had gotten up from the ground hurriedly said, “Marquis, I fear there is a ruse among them.”

Xie Zheng narrowed his eyes slightly as he sized up the fleeing Sui Yuanqing, and only a few personal guards followed him as he went; to that deputy general he said, “You stay here, do not follow.”

Having spoken, he pressed the horse’s flank and gave chase.

The deputy general wanted to say more, but could only see Xie Zheng’s dark cloak lift in the cold wind into a sharp arc.

Arrowheads whistled across the night close to skulls—Sui Yuanqing had to lower his body to dodge those white-feather arrows that followed him like a shadow. Memories of being pursued and nearly killed last time in Qingping County surged up, making him suddenly uneasy.

Changning was pressed close to the horse’s back by him; knowing someone had come to save her, she now fought back with all her might against Sui Yuanqing—either pulling his hair or biting the hand holding the reins.

A sting came from the back of his hand; Sui Yuanqing hissed softly. With his other hand his forefinger and thumb pinched Changning’s cheeks so she would let go of her bite, and he threatened in a cold voice: “If you don’t know what’s good for you, I’ll throw you off this horse right now and let you be trampled to death by hooves!”

Changning’s cheeks were pinched until they hurt; tears welled and could not help but turn in her eye sockets.

Sui Yuanqing waited until she quieted before withdrawing his hand. He zigzagged with the Chongzhou cavalry to dodge the arrows at their backs while weighing in his mind whether this little maid in his hands — since she was not Xie Zheng’s daughter, was truly worth him taking such a great risk to save.

Their original plan had been to use this child as bait to lure Xie Zheng into the ambush; even if they could not take Xie Zheng’s life, they would at least make him lose a layer of skin.

But the bait’s weight was not as heavy as he had expected, and Xie Zheng still took the hook. Sui Yuanqing suddenly had an ominous premonition.

Which link had been miscalculated?

From his understanding of Xie Zheng, Xie Zheng should not be the sort to act on impulse.

His father’s rebellion was not a one-day scheme; the seed of discontent toward the royal house had been planted since the year the Grand Princess Consort died in the Eastern Palace.

His father believed the great fire that befell the Grand Princess Consort and her child was the emperor’s warning to him. To protect himself, for more than ten years he had concealed his light and bided his time.

To deal with Wei Yan, one must naturally first break the sharp blade in Wei Yan’s hand. From the time Xie Zheng became famed, his father had been cultivating him as the candidate to defeat Xie Zheng.

In the art of war they emphasize knowing oneself and the enemy; whatever Xie Zheng had learned, he copied wholesale. Every victory Xie Zheng achieved, his father’s strategists would replay with him many times, searching for flaws and devising tactics to turn defeat into victory.

Because he had spent years imitating everything Xie Zheng had done, sometimes he felt as if he had become Xie Zheng’s shadow.

In this world, apart from Xie Zheng himself, there should be no one who understood him better than he did.

If it were the child of that woman, with Xie Zheng’s pride he might take such a risk.

But merely that woman’s younger sister — for people like them, it was truly not worth risking the lives of ten thousand soldiers for such a gamble.

Could it be… he had indeed overestimated Xie Zheng?

Lost in thought, his warhorse’s foreleg was struck by an arrow. With a neigh it was about to tumble forward from inertia. Sui Yuanqing snapped back to his senses, his face darkened; with one hand he grabbed Changning, and with the long spear braced against the ground for leverage he vaulted onto a nearby cavalryman’s warhorse, thus avoiding being thrown with his own horse.

Xie Zheng had already ridden up. He rode across and stood in the middle of the main road, blocking the way for Sui Yuanqing and his guards. With one hand he lightly tugged the reins, with a single hand he slantedly lifted his long halberd, and with a teasing look at Sui Yuanqing he said lightly, “It seems the Sui heir has not learned enough from last time’s lesson, hence such poor memory.”

A thunderclap “boom” cracked; lightning’s white light cut Xie Zheng’s face into knife-chiseled contours, the cold, dark night trailing behind him.

He alone, man and steed, blocked a dozen Chongzhou riders, and that pressure made the riders on horseback feel as if it was somewhat difficult to breathe.

Sui Yuanqing was provoked by the remark and almost could not suppress the anger in his eyes, but he quickly calmed and gave a roguish smile: “They say the marquis’s horsemanship and archery are extraordinary. For Sui to receive instruction twice is also Sui’s honor, is it not?”

A few of Xie Zheng’s personal riders who had followed him then hurried over, blocking Sui Yuanqing’s group from retreating.

Sui Yuanqing was unflustered. He cocked his head, looked at Xie Zheng and smiled, asking, “I had thought the marquis was not the sort to treat the lives of soldiers as child’s play. Yet to rescue this child, the marquis is willing to do so.”

As he spoke he stroked Changning’s hair damp with rain, as if petting some small animal.

This was an obvious scheme to sow discord, meant to make the soldiers following Xie Zheng feel displeasure toward him.

Xie Zheng only retorted, “Is this spring rain heavy?”

The rain grew heavier; pea-sized drops struck the ground, in the firelight punching little pits out of the once-muddy earth.

At first Sui Yuanqing did not understand why he suddenly spoke of this rain. When he realized, his face turned abruptly ugly. At the thought that the fifty thousand troops besieging Lucheng would likely be lost to this spring flood, a vein at his temple bulged, thin anger weighing his eyes. 

He raised the spear tip and pointed it at Xie Zheng: “You knew this was a trap all along? Borrowing twenty thousand troops from Jizhou was a lie as well?”

Xie Zheng made no reply.

Sui Yuanqing ground his teeth at him, then suddenly laughed aloud: “Very well—if the battle for Lucheng is lost, let it be lost. Capturing you will be far more satisfying than taking Lucheng and seizing Jizhou outright!”

He grabbed Changning from before the saddle and sneered, “The marquis’s schemes are formidable; I, Sui, concede. Since that is so, there is no need to spare this child’s life.”

With that he actually hurled Changning up into the air and thrust his spear straight at her.

Changning gave a short frightened cry. Xie Zheng’s gaze hardened; the long halberd parried Sui Yuanqing’s weapon. Using the horse’s back for leverage he stepped and leapt up to catch Changning. Sui Yuanqing saw the opportunity and slanted his spear under Xie Zheng’s armpit into the breastplate.

With the armor no longer blocking, the spear tip plunged into flesh—likely hitting bone—and Sui Yuanqing felt a dullness pass through his hand.

Everything happened in an instant. Xie Zheng still held Changning; seeing a personal rider coming, he flung Changning directly toward that rider, pressed down on the spear shaft, used the black-steel spearhead to pry open his own breastplate, and after dropping onto his horse’s back, the long halberd swept at Sui Yuanqing.

Terrified, Sui Yuanqing braced one hand on the saddle and vaulted into the air to avoid that halberd, but did not expect Xie Zheng to plant the halberd, use it for leverage, and spring up to deliver a horizontal kick to his chest.

When that kick landed, Sui Yuanqing felt a rib break; his entire thorax compressed with tearing pain, and a metallic taste of blood rose in his throat.

He instinctively tried to get up, but the halberd blade was already pressed at his throat.

The rain fell so hard, and the violent pain made his vision swirl; he could not clearly see Xie Zheng’s expression at that moment.

But Sui Yuanqing was very clearly aware that he had lost—completely.

He was captured. The Chongzhou cavalrymen dared not act rashly. Before long Yanzhou cavalry came up and bound Sui Yuanqing.

Xie Zheng looked down at him from above and said, “Take him back.”

Sui Yuanqing’s few personal guards watched him being taken away with wide eyes but dared not step forward. One of them, while Xie Zheng and the others were inattentive, climbed onto his horse and rode back to deliver the news.

Xie Zheng instructed several personal riders, “Proceed immediately to Yixian Gorge.”

He had originally worried they could not lure the Changxin Wang’s army into the gorge, but capturing Sui Yuanqing alive would be even more effective than using himself as bait.

The group spurred their horses back. Xie Zheng sat upright on his horse, his back straight, though his lips were faintly pale. The hand that held the halberd kept seeping droplets of blood through his sleeve; they traced over the back of his hand and dripped down the halberd blade.

The chǔ-colored inner robe successfully concealed the color of the blood, and the heavy rain masked the smell of gore; the personal soldiers had not yet noticed anything amiss.

Changning sat on a personal soldier’s horse, stunned. When she regained herself she could not help but sob and sniffle, slurring and alternately calling “A-jie” and “brother-in-law.”

Xie Zheng glanced once and, thinking of the road back that would pass through battlefields littered with corpses, told his personal guard, “Cover her eyes.”