Wei Li cared nothing for the emperor’s dignity—in fact, just yesterday he had considered shoving Shunhe Di’s head into a slop bucket. Zhao Mingxin was Shunhe Di’s daughter, so forcing her head into a slop bucket was, in a roundabout way, equivalent to doing the same to Shunhe Di.
Especially since Goguryeo had attacked the Deer Farm in Pingzhou a few days earlier. Wei Li was vengeful by nature; even after plundering the border garrisons of Southern Goguryeo, he still felt unsatisfied. So he simply sent Zhao Mingxin to the Goguryeo royal court to stir up trouble.
Gifting them a young, beautiful, and innocent empress—he felt he was being rather generous to this neighbor, repaying malice with kindness.
Zhao Mingxin was indeed young and beautiful, but whether she was innocent or simply foolish remained debatable.
Xiao Tao had spent the entire afternoon clutching Zhao Xiheng and wailing “Princess!” at the top of her lungs, so everyone in the Junshoufu, high and low, now knew. Wei Li—Wei the Dog Bandit—had pulled off a major heist: he had kidnapped Princess Jingcheng, who was on her way to marry into Goguryeo.
Although the realm was fragmented and the feudal lords were defiant, in the hearts of ordinary people, the title “princess” still carried immense weight, sounding lofty and unattainable.
The Commandery Governor and his wife’s address for Zhao Xiheng shifted from “Little Lady” to “Young Lady,” and finally to “Princess.”
The Commandery Governor’s Wife was soft-hearted. Whenever she thought of Zhao Xiheng, who was about the same age as her own daughter yet in such dire straits, she couldn’t help but sigh with pity. She felt the young girl had endured too much hardship—losing both parents at a tender age, sent away for a political marriage, only to be kidnapped by someone like Wei Li. Thus, her affection for Zhao Xiheng grew.
After eating her fill and washing up, Zhao Xiheng burrowed into the warm bedding and let out a contented sigh.
It seemed that with a full stomach and warmth, every part of her body felt at ease.
Fearing she might be bored, the Commandery Governor’s Wife had specially sent over many small toys: glass marbles and a silver nine-linked puzzle.
She lay still for a while, then rolled over, propping herself up on the heated kang bed to play marbles with Xiao Tao.
“I asked you earlier what Wei Li went to Goguryeo for, and you didn’t finish telling me.”
Two glass marbles collided with a crisp clink. She tugged the thick quilt higher over her shoulders, leaving only her small head and two arms exposed.
“I heard the Deer Farm was slaughtered by Goguryeo people, so Wei Li took men to seek revenge.”
“How shameless!” Zhao Xiheng abandoned the marbles and slammed her fist onto the kang. She was cursing Goguryeo.
Ever since Aye’s death, Goguryeo had frequently harassed the borders of Great Zhou. Conflicts erupted repeatedly, and casualties were inevitable. Her uncle was not particularly decisive in foreign affairs, and Great Zhou’s military forces had been appropriated by the feudal princes of various provinces. The meager remnants of troops left under his control were insufficient to wage war. To maintain peace and protect the Great Zhou citizens near Goguryeo, the most convenient and effective method was a political marriage.
Zhao Xinglie cared about the people. Zhao Xiheng had accompanied him to court and while he reviewed memorials since childhood. Though she hadn’t learned a fraction of his martial skills or abilities, she still held the welfare of the people close to her heart.
Zhao Xiheng had agreed to the political marriage readily, partly for this very reason.
And now Goguryeo had ambushed the Deer Farm? It had to be noted that even the Commandery Governor’s family didn’t yet know about her abduction during the marriage journey, so Goguryeo certainly hadn’t received the news either.
What were they trying to do? While the two nations were negotiating a political marriage, they couldn’t even maintain a facade of peace?
Xiao Tao gently patted Zhao Xiheng’s chest, which was heaving with anger. “It’s fortunate, truly fortunate, that they revealed their true colors before you even entered Goguryeo.”
Zhao Xiheng thought about it and agreed, her anger subsiding slightly.
Having slept too much during the day, she was wide awake and couldn’t fall asleep anytime soon. She picked up the nine-linked rings to solve them while also thinking about the Deer Farm. The outermost door beyond the outer chamber was kicked hard from outside, and she didn’t even need to guess who did it.
Then Wei Li’s voice came through several doors, “Zhao Xiheng, go to sleep! Weak as a worm during the day, but turning into a dragon at night?”
Zhao Xiheng gritted her teeth, put the nine-linked rings and marbles back into the box, and had Xiao Tao extinguish the lamp to sleep.
She didn’t know how Wei Li had so much energy. He had slept late the night before, gotten up early yesterday, gone to Pyongyang to fight a battle, and still hadn’t slept even at this late hour.
The sun in Pingzhou rose exceptionally late and set exceptionally early. It was already the end of the Mao Hour, and the red sun was trembling as it revealed just a tiny corner. Afraid that Wei Li might really barge in and drag her out to bury her in the snow, Zhao Xiheng got up early. She lit a lamp in the room, shivered while hugging the bedding for a while, and was urged by her growling stomach to finally put on the clothes Xiao Tao had warmed for her.
In winter here, aside from hunting in the mountains or breaking ice to fish, produce was particularly scarce, especially leafy green vegetables. The most common were the Chinese cabbages stored during the frost season.
Breakfast was wontons, with dried shrimp and seaweed boiled in the broth for flavor. There were also Chinese cabbage and pork buns, Chinese cabbage stir-fried with cured meat, as well as Spicy Pickled Cabbage, Pickled Pepper Fish Skin, Pickled Bellflower Root, and more.
The food wasn’t refined, even simple and plain to the point of not seeming like something the Commandery Governor’s household could prepare. But it was clear the cook had tried their best to make the simple ingredients delicious.
Zhao Xiheng ate three fist-sized buns in one go, along with a large bowl of wontons and a small bowl of pickled vegetables, then licked her lips.
It was probably because of the cold. Even though she stayed indoors most of the time, she always felt hungry.
In winter, Pingzhou bore no grass or trees, only vast expanses of white snow. The only thing worth looking at was the few evergreen pines and cypresses in the courtyard. After eating, Zhao Xiheng felt stifled and afraid of the cold, so she went to sit by the small stove in the outer room. Quietly lifting the curtain covering the window, she peered through the translucent Glutinous Rice Window Paper at the faint hints of green outside.
Footsteps crunched on the snow, stopping by the window—a dark shadow.
Then…
Then the rice paper was poked through.
Zhao Xiheng met a pair of pitch-black eyes. This time, she didn’t pretend—she was genuinely startled and stumbled backward, nearly toppling over along with the Hu bed.
“Come out.” Wei Li tore the hole in the rice paper wider, revealing his entire face. The cold wind rushed straight at Zhao Xiheng’s face.
??? Is window paper free or something?
Zhao Xiheng’s heart pounded nervously, wondering if Wei Li planned to take her out to kill her today.
Wrapped in a thick cloak, Zhao Xiheng followed closely behind Wei Li.
It had snowed again last night, piling thickly on the ground, deep enough to cover Zhao Xiheng’s ankles. Like powdered sugar, it crunched with every step.
Afraid of snow getting into her boots, Zhao Xiheng walked slowly, stepping precisely into Wei Li’s footprints.
Wei Li turned around, and Zhao Xiheng, who had been looking down at the path, didn’t notice in time and bumped her head against his chest.
“Ah!” she exclaimed, stumbling backward.
Fortunately, the ground was covered in snow, so falling didn’t hurt. Still, Zhao Xiheng felt that, as a princess, falling in front of someone was rather embarrassing.
Wei Li reacted swiftly, grabbing Zhao Xiheng by the collar and steadying her as if lifting a little chick.
Zhao Xiheng’s heart was as dead as ashes. You might as well let me fall down and leave me alone.
Being dragged up like this felt even more humiliating—she had lost every ounce of a princess’s grace and dignity.
A passing maid stole a glance at the two of them.
Zhao Xiheng’s face flushed red. Gritting her teeth, she patted her skirt and pretended as if nothing had happened. “Thank you, Zhu Gong.”
Wei Li pinched her cheek hard. “Cold?”
Her face was already red.
Zhao Xiheng nodded.
Wei Li seemed to be in a good mood and turned to leave.
Zhao Xiheng’s face nearly scrunched into a little bun. What are you so happy about if I’m cold?!
Zhao Mingxin cried the entire way. Tears froze on her face, and her skin turned dark purple from the cold. Then she was thrown into a small room. She thought this was as bad as it could get, but less than an hour later, she was dragged from the still-warm room and tossed into a freezing, bone-chilling woodshed.
She buried her head and wept bitterly. The pampered days in the Jinyang palace seemed like only yesterday, yet everything she was experiencing now felt like a nightmare.
Pingzhou, located at the Four-Nation Junction, was garrisoned with five hundred thousand troops by Zhao Xinglie after he captured it, to defend the territory. After his death, Shunhe Di could not suppress Prince Zhenbei, and these soldiers almost became private troops of Pingzhou.
Not to mention the vast disparity in military strength between Qingzhou and Pingzhou, Qingzhou held little respect for the royal family and had no desire to provoke Pingzhou for Zhao Mingxin’s sake. Thus, Wang Zhiyao, the lord of Qingzhou, turned a blind eye to Zhao Mingxin, even wishing he could throw her out of Qingzhou.
Fortunately, Wei Li was willing to take her, so Wang Zhiyao hastily packed her up and sent her away.
Wang Zhiyao then delivered a formal speech: “Marrying into Goguryeo is to foster goodwill between the two nations, protect their people, and maintain peace in the region. Since Princess Jingcheng is missing, Princess Ming’an naturally steps forward without hesitation. We are deeply moved by the princess’s righteousness and are overwhelmed with gratitude. We hereby respectfully send Princess Ming’an out of Qingzhou, praying for her safe arrival in Goguryeo.”
And so, Zhao Mingxin was handed over to Wei Li, even burdened with the lofty label of “righteousness.”
After the death of Pingwei Jiangjun, the wedding escort fell into disarray. Fearing punishment from the emperor for failing to deliver Zhao Mingxin safely to Goguryeo upon their return to Jinyang, they abandoned their duties and voluntarily enlisted as Military Households in Qingzhou.
Zhao Mingxin, escorted by Wang Zhiyao and his men, set off alone, followed by her dowry. Because of her relentless troubles, Wang Zhiyao treated her with indifference—not even providing a charcoal brazier in her carriage.
Then he waved his hand, bidding her farewell with delight.
A rat crawled onto her foot. Zhao Mingxin screamed and sprang up—a rare burst of energy.
The door was kicked open, and light rushed in eagerly.
Zhao Mingxin’s eyes fixed intently on Zhao Xiheng, who stood beside Wei Li…