“Is this our Changbai Mountain?”
“Yes, let us offer our prayers and ask it to protect Goguryeo.”
The two men cast aside the branches they were using as walking sticks and threw themselves excitedly onto the snow. They appeared to have just finished the climb from the foot of the mountain. They jabbered a string of words in the Buyeo language, rubbed their frozen hands, and removed their hats, preparing to worship the mountain god.
Suddenly, a flash of cold light swept before their eyes. Before they could even register a look of terror, their heads were severed from their bodies.
Scorched blood sprayed out, melting tiny pits into the snow. The swift wind howled, hurriedly erasing the crimson stains.
A man bent slightly, wiping his moon blade clean of blood before sheathing it unhurriedly. The northern wind whipped his ink-black hair, making it appear even darker against the pure white landscape, dancing like a life-snatching demon.
Salt-like snow fell rhythmically upon his shoulders.
“Trespassing into Pingzhou without a border pass… throw them back…” He paused, carelessly brushing the snow from his shoulder. “Throw the corpses back to Southern Goguryeo.”
Having said this, he couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He pressed his knuckles against his forehead, his shoulders trembling. It was as if he had heard the most incredible joke; he laughed uncontrollably, doubling over, before turning to lean against a tree and staggering down the mountain.
The remaining men stood frozen, wishing they could merge with the trees. For a long time, his laughter continued to echo through the empty forest, accompanied by the low hum of his sword.
“Southern Goguryeo, Northern Goguryeo, hahaha…”
They cursed inwardly. How could Prince Zhenbei have taken such a dangerous creature as an adopted son?
The Great Zhou Imperial Palace was festively decorated.
Glazed golden lanterns flowed across the moat in vast stretches, making the sky and the water glow with equal brilliance. Huge clusters of fireworks bloomed one after another in the night sky.
Both heaven and earth were filled with the light of extravagant indulgence.
The commoners laughed and cheered, praising the peace and prosperity of the age. Children chased each other, flitting like butterflies, and the entire night seethed with excitement.
The Emperor was marrying off his princesses.
The ones getting married were Princess Ming’an, Zhao Mingxin, and Princess Jingcheng, Zhao Xiheng.
One was the legitimate daughter of the current Emperor Shunhe; the other was the only daughter of Emperor Shunhe’s elder brother, the Former Emperor Huiwu. Former Emperor Huiwu had died on the battlefield without a male heir, and on his deathbed, he had entrusted both the throne and his only daughter to his brother.
Both were getting married on the same day, yet this joyous atmosphere was meant for only one of them.
The Empress was busy accompanying her own daughter, Zhao Mingxin, and had no time for her niece, Zhao Xiheng.
Though Zhao Xiheng’s quarters were also decorated with lanterns and silks, the place was eerily desolate, appearing excessively mournful. The palace servants moved with extremely light footsteps, silent and somber, their hems barely swaying as if weighed down by water.
They wore smiles measured by a ruler, yet their eyes brimmed with tears. They looked like a row of masked puppets, their smiles twisted and tragic.
Under this atmosphere, Zhaohua Palace felt like a pool of stagnant water, a frigid cavern.
Zhao Xiheng sat on the couch by the edge of the bathing pool, hugging her knees. Feeling the rolling steam from the hot water, she squinted her eyes comfortably.
“Your Highness, Her Majesty the Empress has arrived.”
The Empress, who had been busy managing her own daughter’s wedding, finally remembered that her niece was marrying on the same day and spared a moment to visit.
Originally, this political marriage to Goguryeo would not have fallen to Zhao Xiheng; the King of Goguryeo had requested the hand of the Empress’s daughter, Zhao Mingxin. But how could the Emperor and Empress bear to send their own daughter to be the wife of the King of Goguryeo, who was nearly sixty years old? Thus, they decided to send Zhao Xiheng in her place.
This was a dishonorable move. Her parents were dead, leaving behind a lone girl, and instead of taking proper care of her, they were sending her off for a political marriage.
But the even more dishonorable part came after. Almost immediately, the Emperor and Empress accepted a marriage proposal from Prince Zhenbei, betrothing Zhao Mingxin to the Prince of Zhenbei’s heir.
Prince Zhenbei’s fief, Pingzhou, was separated from Goguryeo by only a single river. Not only was Zhao Mingxin having Zhao Xiheng marry in her stead, but she was also getting married on the same day, intending to disgust her cousin from across the water. Prince Zhenbei was a powerful regional warlord, and Zhao Mingxin’s marriage was hundreds of times better than Zhao Xiheng’s.
Zhao Xiheng rubbed her eyes and squeezed out a few tears before the Empress arrived. Only then did she emerge from the bath, wrapped in a plain white outer robe.
Her skin was as white as congealed fat. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her long lashes lowered, and with her slender shoulders and waist, she looked exceptionally delicate and pitiable. She lightly covered her lips and coughed twice, her fragile, glamorous posture enough to make one’s heart tremble.
The waiting maid, Xiao Tao, stepped forward and draped a silk wrap over her, whispering, “Your Highness, the elderly maids for your hair and makeup are waiting. The Shang Gong officials are all here.”
Zhao Xiheng grasped Xiao Tao’s hand, her body trembling slightly. She forced a few more tears into her eyes. With her beautiful face acting this way, it only made people’s hearts ache, wishing they could pull her soft body into their arms to comfort her.
Xiao Tao shed tears, embracing her with genuine emotion. “Your Highness, do not be afraid. Even if you aren’t just going to Goguryeo for a marriage—even if it were a mountain of blades or a sea of fire—this servant would accompany you.”
“Mm,” Zhao Xiheng whimpered, her voice soft enough to melt one’s bones. Tears spilled from her eyes as a physiological reaction, and her body shook even harder. She even sucked in a sharp breath of cold air before nodding, making her sorrow appear even more realistic.
Moving out from the inner chamber, she found the Empress already seated and drinking tea.
Upon seeing her, the Empress held her and wept for a long while. “A’shui, my poor child. Nowadays, the regions are divided and the Great Zhou is surrounded by wolves. Otherwise, how could we bear to send you away for a political marriage?”
Zhao Xiheng obediently wept along with the Empress for a bit, her voice thin and gentle as she said, “A’shui knows. For the people of Great Zhou, A’shui is willing to go.”
A’shui was her childhood name, given by her parents. It shared the same meaning as the character that signifies joy.
She had lost her mother at six and her father at nine. Living under the thumbs of others for six years, she had long ago learned the trick of speaking to people in the way they wanted to hear.
If she didn’t act submissive, people would likely shake their heads in pity when mentioning Princess Jingcheng, saying, “The young lady has a bad life; she died early.”
In these times, even the death of an Emperor wasn’t considered a major event, let alone a princess.
It was a pity the childhood name her father and mother had painstakingly chosen for her, hoping for her long-lasting joy and health, had not come true.
The Empress called for the female officials to do her makeup, and she obediently complied.
She wasn’t her biological daughter after all. Before the makeup was even finished, the Empress could no longer sit still. After a few words of comfort, she left.
In her heart, she felt that while this young girl Zhao Xiheng had the face of a kingdom-toppling seductress, she lacked the wit and the means. She was kind-hearted and easy to talk to—the softest of souls—and didn’t require much effort to appease.
Although today was a grand occasion, the distance between Jinyang and Goguryeo was thousands of miles. Since they would be traveling by carriage with many stops, her attire wasn’t overly grand; it was enough just to be auspicious.
Before long, the ritual officials and female attendants also silently withdrew.
The red candles crackled as they burned. Zhao Xiheng’s body trembled slightly, her eyes rimmed with red.
Xiao Tao thought she was afraid, so she took her hand. “Your Highness, I meant what I said. Even if Your Highness goes to a mountain of blades or a sea of fire, this servant will go with you.”
A gust of wind blew in, making Zhao Xiheng tremble even more violently. Xiao Tao thought she was moved and was about to pour her heart out further, but Zhao Xiheng suddenly pushed her away.
Zhao Xiheng pulled her clothes tight and scurried toward the inner bath chamber, her jade pendants clinking crisply. “Goddamn winter, I’m freezing to death. No, I have to go back in to warm up. Hurry, light the stove!”
As expected, it wasn’t a good idea to run outside right after a bath. She was almost driven to tears by the cold.
Xiao Tao stood frozen in place, tears still hanging from the corners of her eyes, still holding her arms out in an embrace.
Goddamn winter.
Damned winter.
Winter.
She knew her Highness hated winter, but in such a tragic moment, shouldn’t the mistress and servant be weeping in each other’s arms?
She was silent for a while. As expected, her Highness was still her Highness. There had been so many outsiders in Zhaohua Palace these past few days, and her Highness had been acting so delicate and soft that she had almost forgotten that her Highness was not like other timid young ladies.
She was mentally strong and knew when to bend or stand tall.
Everyone in the palace knew Zhao Xiheng was afraid of the cold. Emperor Shunhe cared about his reputation and wouldn’t be stingy over a few pounds of charcoal. So, even though the rivers in Jinyang didn’t even freeze in winter, Zhao Xiheng’s palace always burned hot charcoal.
With people coming and going in the bustle today, all the hard-earned warmth had been dissipated.
The entire palace was in an uproar all night. When the first light of dawn broke through the haze, the carriages of the two princesses had already passed through the main palace gates, followed by miles of dowry.
Unlike the cheer inside Zhao Mingxin’s carriage, the atmosphere in Zhao Xiheng’s carriage carried the gloom of Zhaohua Palace.
Everyone was dissatisfied with Zhao Xiheng’s marriage, even feeling hatred and disgust, especially since they had to accompany her to such a remote and freezing place.
Goguryeo was but a small country, plagued by shortages and inhabited by barbarians. When they thought of Zhao Xiheng’s original engagement to the eldest son of the Xie clan of Lingcheng, and then thought of Zhao Mingxin marrying the Prince of Zhenbei’s heir on the same day, they felt even more indignant.
“Those who know would think I’m getting married; those who don’t would think I’m heading to the battlefield,” Zhao Xiheng said, nibbling on a chestnut cake. She was wrapped up like a zongzi, teasing them.
“Smile a bit, don’t be so serious. When we reach the next official courier station, I’ll let you go out and play.”
Because Zhao Xiheng was so kind, no one smiled; instead, they began to cry. They pulled their sleeves over their faces. Since they had already left the palace, they weren’t afraid of being beheaded for treasonous words.
“They are all ungrateful wolves. How could they send Your Highness for a political marriage?”
“Goguryeo is in the far north. It’s winter for more than half the year. Your Highness has always been afraid of the cold.”
“The late Emperor had only Your Highness as his child.”
“The King of Goguryeo is already fifty-nine.”
“If the late Emperor were still here, his troops would have already passed Pyongyang and trampled Goguryeo into the dust.”
At the mention of her father, the smile on Zhao Xiheng’s face faded slightly. She silently stuffed her mouth with chestnut cake.
Yes, if her father were here, let alone tiny Goguryeo, even if it were the Xianbei, he would have made their envoys walk in and be carried out. But her father was gone…
Her eyes reddened. She put another piece of chestnut cake into her already bulging cheeks and then frantically gulped down some water.
The palace maids stopped crying and looked at her in confusion. Zhao Xiheng shook her head and said nonchalantly, “I ate too fast. I choked until my tears came out.”