Fang Linyuan wasn’t making excuses—he truly wanted to return to the manor and see Zhao Chu before his departure.

Though, to be fair, it wasn’t just to say goodbye.

Troops were already being assembled outside the city, leaving Fang Linyuan with little time. He rushed back to the manor, and as soon as he entered Huaiyu Pavilion, he saw Juan Su anxiously peering outside the door.

Seeing him arrive, Juan Su’s eyes flickered with surprise.

“My lord, you’re here?” she said. “His Highness just sent someone to fetch you.”

“His Highness was looking for me?” Fang Linyuan asked as he followed her up the pavilion steps.

“I’m not sure, but it seemed quite urgent,” Juan Su replied, pushing open the doors for him.

“His Highness is inside. Please, my lord.”

Fang Linyuan gave a slight nod before stepping inside.

Zhao Chu was seated on the couch by the window in the hall, a letter placed beside him. His slightly furrowed brows gave him a stern, cold expression.

“What happened?” Fang Linyuan quickly asked as he stepped forward.

“There’s something unusual about the bandits in Chongzhou Mountain.”

As he spoke, Zhao Chu picked up the letter and handed it to him. “Even the Eastern Depot couldn’t trace their identities. They’re likely not just ordinary civilians who have fallen into the grass.”

(NT: reference to the Chinese idiom “落草为寇” (luò cǎo wéi kòu), which means "to fall into the grass and become a bandit." This idiom describes people who, often due to difficult circumstances, are forced into a life of crime. Here it suggests that these civilians are more than just desperate people—they are well-trained, disciplined, and possibly have a more structured organization)

Fang Linyuan took the letter and skimmed through it.

There wasn’t much information, but it was troubling enough.

Even rebels and traitorous factions would leave traces behind, yet these bandits seemed to have emerged from nowhere, as if they had sprung from the very earth itself.

“This really is strange…” Fang Linyuan muttered as he studied the letter. “Da Xuan’s household registration system is incredibly strict—where could they possibly have come from?”

“Anything abnormal must be approached with caution.”

After a moment of silence, Zhao Chu shook his head and reached out to take the letter back. He lit the lamp and burned it to ashes.

Fang Linyuan nodded in agreement. “I understand. Once I reach Chongzhou, I’ll be extremely cautious. I’ll gather intelligence before making any strategic moves.”

Then he looked up at Zhao Chu. “Zhao Chu, this time, you’re not coming.”

As his words fell, he distinctly saw Zhao Chu’s hand pause slightly as he burned the letter.

Then, Zhao Chu turned his head to look at him.

“Watch your hand!” Fang Linyuan exclaimed in alarm, seeing the flames nearly lick Zhao Chu’s fingertips. He quickly reached out, brushing the ashes away.

“There’s no need to worry,” Zhao Chu said, unfazed.

“I will handle all matters in the capital properly. Nothing unexpected will happen.”

His words made it clear—he had already decided to accompany Fang Linyuan.

Fang Linyuan sighed, feeling that his trip home had been worth it after all.

Back in the imperial gardens, he had recalled the last time he set out on an expedition.

Zhao Chu was always like this—never one to voice his thoughts. Every time, he was like a silent shadow, quietly following behind, solving problems for him. If Fang Linyuan didn’t deliberately turn around to catch him, he would never even notice his presence.

This time, had he not anticipated it in advance, Zhao Chu would likely have secretly followed him, and the “madam” of his household would once again fall ill for days, unable to leave her chambers.

But this time was different. If the situation dragged on, it could take half a month before they could return to the capital. If something happened in the city, how would Zhao Chu handle it?

Fang Linyuan worried that Zhao Chu might get into trouble because of it.

“I already noticed something was off when I was in the imperial gardens earlier, so I have a rough idea of the situation,” Fang Linyuan said. “This time is different from last time. Ningbei Commandery is far away, and I’m leading a large force. With so many soldiers, moving troops in and out, it’ll be difficult for you to remain unnoticed.”

Then he smiled at Zhao Chu. “Besides, I’m good at fighting. It doesn’t matter if it’s a gang of unknown bandits or celestial warriors and ghostly generals—none of them are a match for me.”

Zhao Chu remained silent, his face expressionless.

Yet, for some reason, Fang Linyuan felt he saw a hint of grievance in his eyes.

Like a little black dog sneaking behind someone in the night.

It had been discovered, and when told to stop, it obediently halted in place, dejected, its tail the only thing still wagging slightly.

Who could bear to be cruel to such a little black dog?

Fang Linyuan’s expression softened unconsciously.

He looked at Zhao Chu for a moment before exhaling lightly. “I just don’t want you to have to hide in the shadows, with nowhere to go when it rains or storms, constantly afraid of being seen. The things I can handle—I don’t want you to suffer for them.”.

*

After confirming multiple times that Zhao Chu had agreed not to follow him out of the capital, Fang Linyuan finally felt at ease.

He had a quick lunch, then rode out of the city gates.

Outside the gates, a cavalry force of two thousand men was already assembled on the drill ground, awaiting him.

They were all soldiers stationed in the capital—colleagues and subordinates of Fan Yushu. Fan Yushu had suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the bandits and returned gravely injured. As a result, the morale of these two thousand troops was incredibly low. They looked defeated before they had even set out.

Fang Linyuan took note of this but said nothing, refraining from reprimanding them.

Among them was Zhou Jia, a lieutenant who had sustained minor injuries. Since he had previously fought against the bandits, he had been assigned to assist Fang Linyuan.

With two thousand soldiers, they set off northward in an imposing march.

Shangjing was far from Chongzhou. They departed at noon and, by nightfall, had just reached the border between Jizhou and Chongzhou.

Summer had passed, and it was now the peak season for Jizhou’s crops. The wheat fields were lush and deep green. When night fell, the fields rippled like a vast, undulating ocean.

Fang Linyuan selected a suitable location and ordered the soldiers to set up camp.

As soon as the army stopped outside the city, and with a bountiful harvest approaching, the local officials came to greet them, bringing carts of flatbread and fresh vegetables.

Though the soldiers carried dry rations, nothing compared to a hot, freshly prepared meal. Fang Linyuan knew such offerings could be properly recorded in the war report and presented to the emperor, so he accepted the provisions, allowing the troops to enjoy a well-earned feast.

After the local officials left, and the soldiers were gathered around their fires roasting food, Fang Linyuan stood and walked into the centre of the camp.

The soldiers all looked up at him.

“Do you all know where your dinner came from?” he asked.

The men exchanged uncertain glances, confusion flickering in their eyes.

Fang Linyuan remained patient, waiting for their response.

After a moment of silence, Zhou Jia’s sharp voice rang out. “What, are you all deaf?”

A soldier immediately responded in a loud voice, “General, it was the governor of Lingxi County who sent it.”

“And do you know why the governor of Lingxi County went out of his way to bring you provisions?” Fang Linyuan asked again.

Some soldiers still looked confused, but others seemed to have realized something, though they hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances.

This time, Fang Linyuan did not wait for them to answer. “At least thirty percent of you should already understand what I mean,” he said.

“Last time, you fought alongside General Fan Yushu and me to pacify the rebellion in Jibei. The governor of Lingxi County has come today to express his gratitude to you.”

A murmur of discussion broke out among the soldiers. Some who had participated in the previous campaign nodded in agreement, recounting the events of the rebellion to their comrades.

After the brief commotion, the soldiers gradually quieted down and looked back at Fang Linyuan.

He stood near the fire, its flickering flames casting shadows on his face and armour. In the dim night, he looked resolute and steadfast, exuding a sense of reliability.

“The Jibei rebellion—I'm sure you’ve all heard about it. It was a difficult and prolonged struggle. But what the officials and people of that region remember is not the chaos before peace was restored, but the soldiers from the capital who put an end to it,” he said.

“So, being reprimanded and doubted because of the bandit crisis in Chongzhou does not mean you have failed. The campaign has not yet concluded—the outcome is not yet decided. Right now, the power to determine victory or defeat is still in your hands.”

“If you act like beaten dogs before even entering battle, then we may as well call this war lost already. We’ll wait a few days, and then we can all tuck our tails between our legs and return to the capital in disgrace.”

A heavy silence fell over the crowd.

Why had they been feeling so demoralized?

Because they had suffered defeat. Their general had been reprimanded and demoted, and they had lost face.

The emperor had sent them back into battle only because they were the closest troops to Chongzhou. But they knew very well—those cunning bandits were already difficult to defeat. If they lost again, what then?

Lose once, and they changed generals. Lose again, and they would change soldiers.

If that happened, they would likely be sent to guard some bitterly cold border region. And when would they ever have the chance to return to the capital again?

Fang Linyuan’s words ignited the fear and uncertainty lurking in their hearts.

And just then, they heard him continue.

“But right now, you still have a chance to regroup and fight back.” He swept his gaze over the surrounding soldiers. “After all, I’ve never lost a battle. It would be difficult for me to make an exception for anyone.”

Yes—he was the invincible General Fang!

The soldiers holding warm flatbreads looked up, their faces filled with emotion. In the firelight, their frustration turned into determination. They looked eager for battle.

“You are marching not just to erase your disgrace but to exterminate these bandits,” Fang Linyuan said. “But do I really need to tell you what kind of soldiers are fit to win battles and earn promotions?”

One by one, soldiers stood up.

“No need!” someone shouted.

More voices followed, their responses growing louder, their morale rising.

“Then tomorrow, after you’ve eaten well and rested properly, what will you do?” Fang Linyuan asked.

“Wipe out the bandits!”

“Return victorious to the capital!”

Shouts from all directions echoed through the night.

*

Once the soldiers settled down to eat happily, Fang Linyuan found his throat dry from all the talking.

He returned to his tent, sat down, took the water flask hanging from his saddle, and drank deeply.

Boosting the soldiers’ morale had been exhausting, but it was necessary.

Not far away, Zhou Jia approached, his face full of admiration. “General, General Fan really wasn’t exaggerating—you are truly remarkable.”

“You think just talking makes me remarkable?” Fang Linyuan lowered the flask and turned to him. “Boosting morale before battle is just basic leadership.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Zhou Jia said with a grin. “But you really are incredible.”

Seeing the admiration in his eyes, Fang Linyuan chuckled. “Enough of that. What’s more important is this—do you still remember the terrain of the Chongzhou mountains? Describe the battle at the bandit stronghold to me while we have time.”

The speech earlier was for the soldiers. But for officers, what mattered was maintaining a cool head, being meticulous, and preparing thoroughly. There was no room to get carried away by grand rhetoric.

“Ah, yes, of course!” Zhou Jia quickly grabbed a branch from nearby and began sketching in the dirt.

They had only been in Ningbei County for a little over three days before Fan Yushu was severely injured. As a result, Zhou Jia’s understanding of the area wasn’t complete. Still, he did his best to recount the details of the previous battle.

Strong tactical awareness, a well-fortified mountain position—but aside from that, little was known.

If these were just ordinary bandits, they would be easy prey for soldiers from the capital.

But they had the misfortune of encountering a band of bandits well-versed in tactics and siege defence. The difference in skill was immediately apparent, and they lost their formation, now floundering like a swarm of moths crashing blindly into walls.

Fang Linyuan had no choice but to analyse the rough diagram Zhou Jia had drawn.

Just then, a gust of wind arose.

The pitch-black forest nearby rustled noisily. Fang Linyuan abruptly lifted his head.

Yet, as the wind subsided, the dark woodland gradually fell silent again.

There was nothing there.

Fang Linyuan was momentarily stunned.

It had only been the sound of the wind brushing through the forest, yet for a split second, upon hearing it, he had instinctively thought—Zhao Chu was here.

But Zhao Chu had promised him. He had sworn to remain in the capital. He would never come.

He wouldn’t be here.

As he stared at the trees, their swaying gradually ceasing, Fang Linyuan’s chest suddenly felt inexplicably empty.

A strong feeling, like suddenly realizing something was missing.

But what could possibly be missing?

If Zhao Chu were here, he’d probably be crouching in that forest right now, quietly complaining to him about these unreliable soldiers and officers...

At that thought, for some reason, the corners of Fang Linyuan’s lips subtly turned downward.

Maybe he had just grown too accustomed to Zhao Chu’s constant presence. It wasn’t until now that he realized—the shadow that had always followed him wasn’t something he had to chase after to find.

If it wasn’t there, the emptiness was unmistakable.

Fang Linyuan let out a faint sigh.

At that moment, the sudden fluttering of wings sounded above him.

Fang Linyuan looked up and saw a pure white pigeon descending toward him, its wings flapping steadily.

He reached out and caught it effortlessly.

Its feathers were smooth, its body firm and well-muscled—clearly a trained messenger pigeon.

Lifting the bird gently, he noticed a small golden ring fastened around its ankle. With a single tug, he pulled out a tiny rolled-up letter, composed of two sheets of paper.

Placing the pigeon aside, he unfolded the message.

On one sheet, drawn with meticulous detail despite its small size, was a precise map of the Chongzhou mountains. The bandit stronghold was circled clearly, with each entrance, the placement of houses, and the locations of rivers and streams marked with precision.

The second sheet bore a set of distinct and familiar handwriting.

Elegant and delicate, written in small, refined calligraphy, it was the kind of script best suited for cramming thousands of words onto a tiny slip of paper.

It was a well-known style, renowned throughout the capital and the imperial court—the exquisite, polished handwriting of a noble lady.

It detailed the bandit chief and his second-in-command, including their aliases, appearances, temperaments, and even their preferred military tactics.

It was Zhao Chu’s handwriting.

He must still be in the capital. The faint scent of gum resin clung to the tiny letter—subtle, refined, lingering. Only the bronze incense burner in Zhao Chu’s quarters could have produced such a scent.

Fang Linyuan held the letter, his brows softening as an irrepressible smile spread across his face.

There was no way to hide it.

The wind picked up again, rustling the dark forest behind him with the sound of shifting branches—vast, distant, and hollow.

But Fang Linyuan didn’t feel empty in the slightest.

Somewhere deep within him, warmth surged up, so much so that he didn’t even realize—after finishing the letter, he had flipped it over and started reading it again from the beginning.

His actions piqued Zhou Jia’s curiosity.

“General, is that your letter?” Zhou Jia leaned in. “Where’s it from?”

Fang Linyuan swiftly pressed the letter against his palm and turned to look at him.

“You want to know?” His brow arched slightly.

Zhou Jia nodded enthusiastically, like a pecking chick.

Of course he wanted to know! A letter at this moment had to be critical to the bandit suppression efforts—either intelligence or an imperial decree. How could he not be curious?

But then he saw Fang Linyuan’s brows rise playfully, his lips curving into a smirk.

There was a hint of mischief in his expression, but also an unmistakable lightness and joy. His dark eyes gleamed.

“My wife sent it. You want to see it too?”

Zhou Jia: “...”

They had been married for half a year already—why was he still not the least bit indifferent? He had made a point to bid farewell before leaving, and now, in less than a day, he was already exchanging letters by carrier pigeon?

This famous couple, whose love story was known far and wide, was even more outrageous than the tales told at the storytelling stalls!

Zhou Jia curled his lips, suddenly feeling as if he had swallowed a bee—sweet, yet pricking his throat unbearably.

Hurriedly, he muttered a quick “Pardon my rudeness” and darted three to five feet away, genuinely afraid he might accidentally glimpse some private exchange between husband and wife and suffer the pain of witnessing their affection first hand.

Meanwhile, Fang Linyuan lowered his gaze with a smile, taking out the ink and paper he always carried with him. He bit the end of his brush while tearing off a small piece of the letter paper to write Zhao Chu a reply.

Unlike Zhao Chu, he didn’t have the patience for fine detail. His torn sheet was jagged and uneven, its rough edges making it look more like a discarded scrap than proper letter paper.

But Fang Linyuan didn’t care in the slightest. He spread the paper out in front of him.

What should he write?

He had no intelligence to exchange with Zhao Chu, but he couldn’t just let the pigeon’s trip go to waste. Fang Linyuan racked his brain, thinking so hard it almost hurt, while the pigeon paced beside him, back and forth, as if impatient with his hesitation.

Its bamboo-leaf-shaped footprints trailed right across the rough terrain sketch Zhou Jia had drawn for Fang Linyuan.

That’s it!

Fang Linyuan grabbed the brush from between his teeth, dipped it into the ink, and began to draw.

His strokes moved across the paper, replicating the crude and somewhat ugly map.

Beside the map, he scribbled a short line:

"Look at my soldiers—they’re absolutely useless!"

Because space was tight, the handwriting was small, making it look even more messy and crooked.

A breeze stirred, lifting strands of Fang Linyuan’s hair.

For a moment, he felt as if he had truly slipped into the depths of the forest, quietly complaining to Zhao Chu about the day's frustrations.

*

By dusk the next day, Fang Linyuan led two thousand troops into Ningbei County.

Ningbei bordered Yan Yun, and further north of Yan Yun lay Youzhou, a land of deserts and grasslands. Unlike Jibei, it wasn’t particularly fertile or prosperous.

Between Yan Yun and Chongzhou lay the Chongzhou mountain range. According to the locations Zhao Chu had marked, the bandits were entrenched in the most complex terrain of the mountains.

With steep elevations and natural barriers formed by towering peaks, only a few paths led in and out, making them exceptionally easy to defend.

Clearly, these people  really have some skills.

As night approached, the soldiers settled in to rest. The magistrate of Ningbei had been waiting outside the city to receive Fang Linyuan and invite him to stay in the city for the night.

Fang Linyuan, however, declined the offer. He asked the magistrate to take care of his horse, borrowed a set of plain clothes and a low-quality mount, then swapped his armour onto Zhou Jia.

He instructed Zhou Jia to remain in camp pretending to be him while he, disguised as a passing merchant, rode alone into the Chongzhou mountains for a scouting mission.

Dusk was always the time when guards switched shifts, making defences the weakest.

He strolled inconspicuously around the mountain’s vinicity, checking each checkpoint Zhao Chu had marked on the map—areas most likely to have sentinels.

But the whole place was eerily quiet. Under the swaying treetops, not a single sentinel post was in sight.

Yet Fang Linyuan felt a chill run down his spine.

Through the cover of dense foliage and jagged rocks, he spotted numerous bandits hidden with crossbows, guarding the passes. What seemed like flat ground was riddled with concealed trenches and tripwires, and sharp hidden weapons were scattered along the gravel paths, capable of piercing through soldiers’ boots.

Only a battle-hardened veteran with keen eyes like his could have detected such elaborate defences.

And this was only what he could see from the perimeter. With the maze-like terrain of the mountains, who knew what other traps lay deeper within?

By the time he finished his round, Fang Linyuan found himself begrudgingly impressed.

For a mere bandit stronghold, even the narrow mountain passes had hidden dangers. Their standing guards were well-trained, their formations well-planned—it was almost like a proper military encampment.

After carefully surveying every entry and exit, he withdrew silently and rode back to the Ningbei County yamen.

Night had fully fallen.

The soldiers stationed there had lit their stoves, bustling about as they prepared their evening meal.

Just then, a commotion erupted nearby.

Amid the laughter of soldiers, Zhou Jia’s cries of distress rang out, accompanied by the frantic fluttering of wings.

Fang Linyuan turned his head to look.

There, wearing his armour, was Zhou Jia, flailing his arms in an attempt to fend off a persistent, snow-white pigeon. The bird was determined to land on him.

"Not me! Not me! You’ve got the wrong recipient! Don’t give me the letter!"

Zhou Jia’s voice was filled with despair.

Then, as he lifted his head, he spotted Fang Linyuan, dust-covered from his journey, returning.

At once, he looked as if he had seen his saviour.

"General! General, you’re back!" He rushed toward Fang Linyuan, practically wailing.

"Your wife’s letter nearly pecked me to death!!"

 

--

The author has something to say:

Pigeon: I can’t believe this. I actually met a recipient who not only refused to accept the letter but also wouldn’t let me park. What kind of person is this? So annoying!!

 

Translator : DarNan