Yan Zhenqing had a good relationship with Pugu Huai’en and admired his family’s loyalty and valor, so he volunteered to welcome him into the capital this time.
Along the way, he had advised this man to think more before speaking. Yet, before even entering the capital, he had managed to offend someone again.
Yan Zhenqing quickly smoothed things over: “The Prince of Daning is straightforward by nature. He has simply been starving for several days and suddenly caught the scent of meat—like a cat drawn to fish—so he spoke without thinking.”
Pugu Huai’en grinned and clasped his hands in apology: “We have been traveling day and night, and on the road, we even encountered a group of Tibetans and got into a fight. Traveling with Lord Yan, I could only gnaw on a few dry cakes. Suddenly smelling this rich broth, this humble official couldn’t help but blabber nonsense. Please do not take offense, Little Prince. My apologies.”
Seeing that bloodstains still lingered on his clothes, not yet cleaned off, Li Xi’s cold expression softened slightly. He immediately ordered more people to set up a large pot and prepare extra meat broth, planning to make a big pot of mutton paomo.
“General, please remove your armor and rest. Let your subordinates set up camp first. My troops do not plan to move today. Why don’t our two armies merge into one, rest together, and guard each other for added safety?”
“That would be excellent.” Pugu Huai’en clasped his hands, this time with sincere gratitude.
“Ping’an, tell them to quickly start cooking. Let General Pugu’s men eat first.”
“Your Highness is too kind.”
“We have already rested for a while and are in no hurry.”
Pugu Huai’en and his men had been rushing nonstop, dusty and exhausted, eating and sleeping poorly for days. Only upon seeing the Tang army camp did they finally relax.
The personal guards were also utterly worn out, sitting on the ground without any desire to move.
One by one, they rummaged through the luggage they carried and pulled out Hu Cakes, ready to eat.
What good provisions could the imperial guard offer? They had entered the grasslands even earlier, likely having nothing more than Hu Cakes and the like. For a forced march like theirs, they couldn’t even be bothered to boil hot water. Presumably, the imperial guard had set up camp early today and cooked some meat broth.
But the sharper-eyed ones noticed the imperial guard swiftly adding ingredients to the broth. They immediately put their Hu Cakes back into their packs, while those with poorer eyesight continued eating. The ones in charge of ladling the broth were not specialized cooks but ordinary soldiers seen everywhere. The soldiers finally tossed a large basin of broken Hu Cakes into the broth, stirred briefly, and called Pugu Huai’en’s personal guards forward to receive their meal.
Pugu Huai’en and Yan Zhenqing each received a large bowl as well, steaming hot mutton broth placed before them.
This was no ordinary mutton broth—it contained wood ear mushrooms, daylily flowers, wild vegetables, and other ingredients, rich in variety and fragrant with the aroma of mutton.
When they took a bite of the Hu Cake soaked in the mutton broth, both men’s eyes lit up.
Pugu Huai’en was even more stunned.
In recent days, the army had survived on easily portable Hu Cakes, gnawing on dry cakes to get by. While the younger soldiers could manage, older men like Yan Zhenqing and Pugu Huai’en not only suffered stomach discomfort but also risked damaging their teeth.
Today’s Hu Cakes softened in mutton broth tasted excellent, but more importantly, there were no cooks in the imperial guard.
No cooks meant no servants were serving this army. Five hundred imperial guards meant five hundred combat-ready soldiers—mounted for battle, dismounted for cooking. Such leadership ability alone commanded admiration.
The Hu Cake was broken apart to better soak up the mutton broth, making the originally wind-dried cake softer and more pliable.
For travelers on a long journey, a mouthful of hot broth like this could warm the very depths of their stomachs, almost making their intestines sing with comfort.
Pugu Huai’en praised enthusiastically, “How is this made? I’ve never tasted anything like it before!”
He looked toward Yan Zhenqing.
Yan Zhenqing shook his head, indicating he had never eaten it either.
Pugu Huai’en immediately remarked, “I observed the imperial guard preparing meals—they don’t even need cooks, and it’s done quickly and simply.”
He wore an expression as if he had just witnessed something extraordinary.
Seeing that Pugu Huai’en was genuinely praising him, Li Xi’s earlier displeasure faded somewhat.
“Isn’t it simple? Usually, we use the cured mutton we carry with us, slice it, and boil it in water. We add some mutton fat and salt to the broth, along with wild vegetables we can gather along the way or dried vegetables we bring with us.”
Pugu Huai’en asked in a trembling voice, “Is it really that simple? But the flavor…”
It didn’t seem like something that could come from just a few slices of mutton.
“Today, we happened to hunt some game, so we cooked a pot of meat broth to satisfy the soldiers’ cravings. If we’re on the move, we just slice a few pieces of mutton into the broth. Though it may not be as fragrant as this, it still tastes good. Especially in cold weather, isn’t it a pleasure for everyone to have a bowl of hot broth?”
“Your Highness truly possesses remarkable talent.”
Preparing meals in the military camp was often a troublesome affair. Bringing cooks along consumed manpower, and to enhance combat effectiveness, such non-combatants were kept to a minimum unless a large army was on the move. During long marches, they almost exclusively carried Hu Cake.
In summer, Hu Cake spoiled easily. In winter, it hardened so much within a day that it could practically be used as a weapon. Eating such fare in winter risked stomach troubles, and on the battlefield, soldiers suffering from such ailments would struggle to fight, growing weak even before engaging the enemy.
Yet, with just this simple method of boiling, soldiers could enjoy a warm bowl of Hu Cake.
Before Pugu Huai’en could ask further, his gaze shifted to his personal guards. Among them, the youngest ones had the most unrefined eating manners—slurping loudly from their bowls, devouring their food with gusto, and sighing contentedly in a rather unsightly manner.
The sky had turned completely dark, and the temperature dropped sharply.
The blazing bonfire on the grassland illuminated every face.
The soldiers, now well-fed and content, wore satisfied smiles.
These troops had followed Pugu Huai’en from south to north, far from their homes, not for riches or glory but for simple desires like a bowl of hot broth and warm food in cold weather. Such a modest wish, yet he, who prided himself on his talents, had never fulfilled it for them.
Pugu Huai’en’s expression shifted from astonishment to emotion, and then he burst into hearty laughter. “This humble official has been blind. I had long heard of Your Highness’s extraordinary wisdom, and today, despite my rudeness and offense, Your Highness has still bestowed upon me this great teaching. Pugu Huai’en thanks Your Highness here. If there is ever anything this humble official can assist with in the future, I will gladly offer my modest efforts.”
Li Xi replied solemnly, “You need only remain loyal to His Majesty, and that will repay the favor I have shown you today.”
Pugu Huai’en grinned. “This humble official will devote all his efforts to the Tang Dynasty, without a trace of disloyalty.”
The bonfire in the camp burned even brighter.
Pugu Huai’en’s personal guards, now satiated, mingled with the imperial guards, chatting and joking freely.
The same army on a long march, this imperial guard’s mental state was clearly better than Pugu Huai’en’s personal guards. Although part of the reason was that they hadn’t undergone a long journey, most soldiers leaving the frontier usually carried longing for their families and reluctance to leave their homeland. Yet this imperial guard unit was like triumphant warriors, their tone so lighthearted it seemed they weren’t soldiers about to embark on a distant campaign.
I had thought such armies wouldn’t exist anymore after the prosperous era of the Tang Dynasty had passed.
Pugu Huai’en narrowed his eyes. He had only left the Tang Dynasty for two years, yet the imperial court already showed signs of hidden talents. The Xizhou Wang was certainly no ordinary man.
As night deepened, a hunting party returned, bringing back a deer and an antelope.
The leader was a centurion who proudly lifted his chin toward another centurion.
Yesterday, another small team had gone out, their catch merely a few rabbits, far less than today’s haul.
Li Xi took out a handful of copper coins from his person and rewarded this team. Though not much, the centurion happily accepted them. Standing up and looking around, he noticed more people in the camp and excitedly asked:
“So, has the tug-of-war started yet?”
“Not yet, we just hurried Pugu General’s personal guards over.”
“Will it still be held tonight?”
Day after day, marching over a hundred kilometers during the day, this little evening entertainment was what these soldiers looked forward to most each day.
Even Lady Wu watched with great interest.
Soon the camp became as lively as usual, with Pugu Huai’en’s troops joining in.
Pugu Huai’en was also in high spirits, personally stepping onto the field to compete.
Li Xi’s team immediately erupted: “Unfair! A fierce general like the Prince of Daning is worth at least five of us.”
Pugu Huai’en spat: “Then have your prince join too.”
Li Xi waved his hand with a smile but was pulled to the front by someone to bolster the formation.
Such excitement lasted until the second watch of the night.
When everyone had dispersed, Li Xi gazed up at the starry sky as singing suddenly rose in the camp.
In the distance, the vast Milky Way was dotted with stars, as if embedded in the sky—a beauty unseen in the era she had lived in before.
Human civilization had suddenly stagnated one day. The atmosphere became severely polluted, and by the time sunlight penetrated the thick clouds to reach Earth’s surface, only faint rays remained. Plants struggled to grow, and humans lived in smog and polluted water. Even in such harsh conditions, invasion and plunder continued unabated. Until one day, Zombies appeared. Facing this immense crisis, humanity finally united, organizing into one base after another.
I truly hope to encounter fewer wars in this lifetime.
I hope Pugu Huai’en won’t face reprimands from my imperial elder brother upon returning to the capital, and I hope he won’t rebel.
“I think as long as my imperial elder brother doesn’t push him to rebellion with pettiness, he likely won’t rebel. But who knows if my imperial elder brother might lose his senses?” Li Xi stretched lazily, finally voicing thoughts she had long kept to herself: “”
“If he must rebel, let him do so after I’m dead. Once my brains are dashed out, I won’t care anymore.” Accompanied by the singing, she drifted into deep sleep…
The next day, as soon as Li Xi opened her eyes, Pugu Huai’en’s troops had already struck camp and departed.
The camp had long been cleaned up, waiting only for Li Xi to rise before setting off.
The maidservants brought basins and water to attend to her as she washed and dressed. Li Xi was scrubbed several times on the face but still couldn’t fully wake up, her mind drifting through space—one moment dreaming of zombies attacking the city, the next of creating sunlight, and then burying a few potatoes along the road—all fragments of last night’s dreams.
Having been restless for most of the night, Lady Wu hadn’t slept well either. She approached with a yawn: “Master Yan left you a few calligraphy copies, reminding you not to forget to practice your writing even when you reach the Western Regions.”
Having stayed up late playing last night, Li Xi still felt drowsy. She was about to yawn but froze with her mouth open: “Master Yan has left?”
How outrageous, leaving without even saying goodbye.
Lady Wu: “Weren’t you always afraid of these teachers? Your master probably didn’t want to bother you and slipped away early in the morning.”
This…
She didn’t envy her brother who was now Emperor, nor Shaolang who would become Emperor in the future.
Being Emperor or a prince was truly a thankless task. Fortunately, she was just an ordinary, unremarkable prince.
Flipping through the pages of calligraphy copies, each stroke was Yan Zhenqing’s own handwriting, a work crafted with utmost care and dedication.
Any single authentic page, preserved for future generations, could rival Van Gogh and surpass Picasso.
These were masterpieces that could be passed down through the ages, so they must be carefully preserved for posterity.
Seeing her daughter, who usually disliked studying, carefully tuck away the calligraphy copies, Lady Wu felt a sense of relief but couldn’t help asking curiously: “Why are you hiding them away?”
Shouldn’t such things be kept in a book chest where they can be easily accessed and used?
Li Xi first placed the copies close to her body, but then reconsidered, thinking that with her constant jumping around, they might be damaged before even reaching the Western Regions. As she pondered where to store them, she answered Lady Wu seriously: “I’m keeping them to be buried with me when I die.”
If left outside, they might be destroyed in wars, so keeping them in a tomb would be extremely safe.
If she was lucky enough to avoid tomb raiders, they could be unearthed and revealed to the world, leaving behind another immortal masterpiece for future generations.
She wondered if, when future generations mentioned these calligraphy copies, they might also casually mention her.
Lady Wu: “…”
Thinking rather far ahead, isn’t she?
Author’s Note:
Giving away 10 small red envelopes in this chapter…