Chapter Forty: The Royal Elite Troops

That night, though Zhan Yan was exhausted, she woke early. When she awoke, the bedding beside her was already cold; obviously, Zhongli Yu had been up for quite some time.

“Qingyun, come in.”

“Yes, miss.”

“When did the prince leave? Why didn’t he wake me?”

“The prince left before dawn. He told us not to disturb you, to let you sleep a while longer.”

“Help me wash and dress. Let’s go to the city gate; I suppose they’re preparing to depart.”

When Zhan Yan arrived at the city gate, it was crowded with people. The common folk, having learned that the emperor had once again sent troops to war, had risen early to see them off. Outside the gate, tens of thousands of soldiers stood in neat formation. One glance was enough to see these troops were specially trained, far more elite than those brought by the Southern Guard Prince.

Following the gaze of the crowd, Zhan Yan saw the man seated upright on horseback. Today, he wore neither the pale blue brocade embroidered with pear blossoms nor the noble black robe, but instead donned resplendent golden armor, looking like a deity. Perhaps this was truly the god of war, Zhan Yan mused quietly. He lifted his eyes toward her; he was looking at her. Their gazes met, and both eyes brimmed with reluctant longing.

“Wait for my return,” he seemed to say.

Zhan Yan nodded, understanding the message in his eyes.

Outside the city gate stood the emperor and the old Prince Chun, with the civil and military officials arrayed behind them.

“Fellow citizens,” the King of Dongling spoke loudly, his voice carrying far. “You all know the Southern Guard Prince betrayed our country, letting the enemy breach Wangcheng and attempt to invade Dongling. I’m sure these past days have been full of fear. Here, I want to tell you—do not be alarmed by our recent defeat, for Dongling is not so easily conquered. Look here; these are our elite troops. They have not yet entered the fray. How could Dongling fall so easily? So, please do not worry. Dongling will not be defeated. Rest assured and live your lives. The future of Dongling will be peaceful and prosperous.”

“Long live the emperor! Long live the emperor!” The people shouted in unison, and in that moment, it seemed the clouds of despair were swept away. Their faces were alight with excitement.

“Prince Chun, this time it is in your hands. I hope you return victorious and bring glory to our nation.” The King of Dongling looked gently at Zhongli Yu.

“I shall not disappoint.” Prince Chun replied solemnly.

“Prince Chun will triumph! Dongling will triumph!”

“Prince Chun will triumph! Dongling will triumph…” Someone began to chant, and soon the crowd was shouting loudly, the sound lingering long in the air.

“You brat, whatever you do, remember to come back alive.” When the noise had subsided, the old Prince Chun turned to Zhongli Yu, growling fiercely.

“Understood.” Zhongli Yu replied, speechless. Clearly worried, the old prince feigned ferocity—who was he trying to fool?

“Good, as long as you know.”

“March!” Prince Chun commanded, and the soldiers advanced swiftly. Their steps were orderly and precise—no trace of confusion. Truly, they were elite troops, specially trained.

Zhan Yan returned to Pear Blossom Court. The courtyard felt empty, and so did her heart; she was unaccustomed to such emptiness. For years she had lived without Zhongli Yu and managed well enough, but now it was different. His presence had become a habit; now, with his sudden departure, she struggled to adjust. She was distracted all day. That night, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep; no matter how she tried, sleep eluded her. Only when the sky lightened with the first pale dawn did she finally drift into slumber.

Because she had slept late, Zhan Yan did not wake until midday. Upon rising, her first words were, “Is there any new news from the border?”

“Miss, after Yang Qi seized Wangcheng, he launched continuous attacks. In just two days, he has already breached Ningcheng.” Qingyun answered gravely.

“Ningcheng fell in two days. The prince still needs six days to reach Ningcheng. So, before he arrives, other cities will likely fall as well.” Zhan Yan frowned. It seemed the loss of Wangcheng had truly dealt Dongling a heavy blow. At this thought, her resentment toward the Southern Guard Prince deepened.

“There’s no need to worry, miss. When the prince arrives, he’ll reclaim the cities.” Qingyun comforted her optimistically.

“That’s true.” Zhan Yan nodded, confident in her husband.

“I’ll go see grandfather.” Rising, Zhan Yan walked toward the old prince’s courtyard. The elder had lost his son, and now his grandson was at war—surely he was anxious. She ought to spend more time with him.

“Grandfather.” Entering the courtyard, she saw the old prince sitting on a stone bench, seeking coolness. His silhouette seemed a little lonely.

“Ah, girl, you’ve come.” Seeing Zhan Yan, he spoke happily.

“Grandfather, have you eaten? I’d like to dine with you. Eating alone isn’t much fun.” Zhan Yan said playfully. She felt a special affection for the old prince, and in his presence, she couldn’t help but show her softer side.

“I haven’t, I haven’t! You’ve come just in time. Come, keep me company.” The old prince was delighted at her offer; his joy shone in his eyes.

“Someone, inform the kitchen to prepare more dishes that the princess likes. She’ll be dining here today.” He called out loudly, as if celebrating a festival.

Seeing the elder’s cheerful face, Zhan Yan’s own mood brightened, dispelling much of her gloom.

They ate together happily, laughter frequently ringing from the dining hall. They ignored the rule of silence at meals; Zhan Yan often told amusing stories, making the old prince laugh heartily. The servants grew fonder of their beautiful princess, for it had been a long time since they’d seen the old prince so joyful.

That day, Zhan Yan stayed with the elder, playing chess and listening to his tales of youth—stories of his princess, his son and daughter-in-law, endless chatter as if no one had listened to him in ages. Zhan Yan was willing to listen, and once he started, he could not stop. Her heart ached for him—how lonely he was. The Chun Prince’s household was as wealthy as a nation, yet its members were few. Others his age had children and grandchildren in abundance, while he remained solitary. In that moment, Zhan Yan wished fervently to bear a child. If she did, the Chun Prince’s mansion would be so much livelier. But they had been married only a month, and Zhongli Yu had already left for war. This wish would not be fulfilled soon, she thought regretfully.

Zhan Yan stayed with the old prince until after dinner, then returned to Pear Blossom Court to rest. Thus the day passed. As she kept him company, the old prince was likewise keeping her company. At that moment, they shared the same loneliness, both thinking of the same person, though neither spoke it aloud.