The sky was beginning to lighten when cries of alarm rang out from the central command tent.
“Brother-in-law! Brother-in-law, what’s wrong? Someone, come quickly!”
The guards outside rushed in to find Chen Danzhu, hair loose and clad only in a thin robe, collapsed at the desk, pale-faced and shaking Li Liang.
Li Liang lay motionless across the desk, his arm pressing down on an open map and scattered documents.
“I woke up and found him sleeping like this,” Chen Danzhu sobbed. “I wanted him to rest properly on the bed, but no matter how I called, he wouldn’t wake. It doesn’t feel right.”
It truly wasn’t right. Li Liang was always vigilant—no matter how exhausted, he would never sleep so deeply that he failed to stir at a girl’s cries or the pounding of soldiers’ boots.
The men carefully laid him flat. One guard bent close to check his breath—still present, but shallow, and his complexion was poor. A physician was summoned at once. At first glance, he declared: “The General has fallen unconscious.”
Chen Danzhu, clutching her robe, asked anxiously, “Is he simply worn out?” Then, turning on the guards, she demanded tearfully, “How could you let this happen? My brother is already gone—if anything happens to my brother-in-law…”
Her weeping left the soldiers flustered. “Second Miss, please don’t cry. The General’s health has always been strong.”
By now, the Chen family’s own retainers had arrived, glaring at Li Liang’s men. “If his health is so strong, how could this happen? And at such a time? Does Second Miss not even have the right to ask?”
Li Liang’s guards dared not argue, bowing their heads. “Let the physician examine him first.”
Surrounded by Chen retainers, Chen Danzhu watched nervously as the doctor took Li Liang’s pulse, observed, questioned, and finally pricked his finger with a silver needle—yet Li Liang showed no response. The physician’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper.
“What has the General eaten recently?” he asked.
Chen Danzhu answered, “He cooked porridge with meat for me. I ate one bowl, and he finished the rest.”
The guards confirmed her words, adding, “Second Miss retired early. The General didn’t want to disturb her, so he took no other supper.”
So he had eaten only what she had. The physician glanced at her—pale and frail as yesterday, but with no new symptoms. He sniffed the air. “There’s a medicinal scent…”
“I’ve been taking medicine,” Chen Danzhu explained. “Last night I drank my dose before bed, and I burned calming herbs in the room.”
The physician knew this already—Li Liang had summoned him when she first arrived, concerned for her health. He had examined her prescriptions: all common, harmless remedies. Yet now the faint scent seemed oddly off—perhaps muddied by the crush of people in the tent.
Most crucially, Chen Danzhu, who had been with Li Liang all night, showed no abnormal signs. The doctor pondered, then asked, “What has the General eaten these past few days?”
At that moment, three deputy commanders arrived, overhearing the question. Sensing something amiss, they pressed the physician directly: “What do you mean? What is wrong with the General?”
The physician spoke plainly: “The General appears to have been poisoned.”
The tent erupted. “Impossible!” “Poisoned?” Some shouted to fetch other doctors. But one sharp female voice cut through the chaos.
“Stand still!” Chen Danzhu cried. “No one is to leave.”
The crowd fell silent, staring at the pale young girl, fists clenched before her.
“None of you may go. Every one of you is suspect in harming my brother-in-law!”
Her words threw the tent into greater turmoil. “Second Miss!” “We would never!” “We are the General’s men—how could we harm him?”
Chen Danzhu glared at them, biting her lip with her small, sharp teeth, and cried out shrilly: “How is it impossible? My brother was murdered in the army! He was killed, and now they want to harm my brother-in-law—maybe even me! Why is it that the moment I arrive, my brother-in-law falls into trouble?”
At her words, the five Chen family guards immediately closed in around her protectively.
Inside the tent, the deputy generals finally came to their senses. Some couldn’t help but smile bitterly—this child was frightened into confusion, speaking without reason. Well, no one expected a fifteen-year-old girl to be reasonable anyway.
“Second Miss,” said a deputy general in his forties, “you recognize me, don’t you? I am Li Bao, adjutant under the Grand Tutor. My life was saved by the Grand Tutor himself. If anyone wished him harm, I should be the first to die.”
“Yes, Second Miss, don’t be afraid,” another deputy soothed. “Most of the men here are loyal to the Grand Tutor.” His eyes reddened as he spoke. “The death of Young Master Danyang grieves us deeply, even though—”
Even though Prince Wu refused to admit it was man-made disaster, they all knew the truth in their hearts.
“We will avenge Young Master Danyang.”
Chen Danzhu knew that while most here were her father Chen Lietu’s men, not all were. Her father’s command had been eroded for years, Wu’s forces long fractured. And as her gaze swept the room, she noted coldly that even among her father’s loyalists, half had already shifted allegiance to Li Liang.
Enough—any further uproar would only backfire. Sniffling, tears shimmering in her eyes, she asked softly: “Then… my brother-in-law can be cured, right?”
A heavy silence fell.
“Second Miss, rest assured,” Li Bao said firmly. “We’ll fetch the finest physician at once.”
The men moved to leave, but Chen Danzhu quickly called out, “Wait.”
Ah, what a troublesome child—many sighed helplessly.
“Vice General Li, I think this matter must not be made public.” Her long lashes trembled with tears, though she forced herself to remain calm. “Since my brother-in-law was poisoned, the traitor is already among us. If word spreads, their plot will succeed, and chaos will erupt.”
Indeed, the men stiffened at her words. As her gaze swept the tent, she caught sight of several faces betraying unease—spies from the court were certainly embedded here. The greatest spy of all was Li Liang, and his confidants surely knew it.
Lowering her eyes, she pressed her nose with her hand, her voice thick with emotion: “Until my brother-in-law wakes, or my father learns of this, conceal it as long as possible.”
Li Bao and the others exchanged glances, whispered briefly, then looked at her with softened eyes. “Very well, Second Young Lady. We understand. You may rest easy.”
Chen Danzhu added, “I am ill anyway. Let the doctor treat me, and say the medicine is for me. My brother-in-law can avoid visitors under the excuse of caring for me.”
Li Bao nodded, then ordered the guards in the tent: “Stand firm at the central command tent. Obey the Second Miss’s instructions in all things.”
The guards answered in unison. Only then did Li Bao and the others hurry out, brushing off the many inquiries outside.
Chen Danzhu sat quietly inside, gazing at the unconscious Li Liang. She pulled the thin quilt over him and pursed her lips. He would not wake again—within five days, he would be dead.
Leaning close to his ear, she whispered: “Brother-in-law, don’t worry. That woman and your son—I will send them to accompany you.”
A tear slipped from the corner of Li Liang’s tightly shut eyes. Chen Danzhu gently wiped it away.