The servant nodded in agreement and hurried off to prepare the items.
The Eldest Young Master was rarely at the General’s Manor, and with his reputation as a War God preceding him, the servant was terrified of him, not even daring to look him in the eye.
Seeing his own servant acting so solicitously toward Xiao Biehe made Xiao Jinshi even more furious. When the servant ran back clutching the paper, ink, and an umbrella, Xiao Jinshi snatched them away. “I am your master! Why are you listening to him?”
The servant lowered his head. “Forgive me, Third Young Master, but… is he not your elder brother?”
As servants, they were bound to obey anyone of higher status. Although he was specifically assigned to the Third Young Master, he was expected to follow any orders from the General, the Madam, or the Second Young Master.
Xiao Jinshi snapped, “Forget it. There’s nothing left for you to do here. Leave and stop annoying me!”
The servant bowed and scurried away.
Xiao Jinshi looked at the paper he had seized, then stared at Xiao Biehe for a moment before thrusting the writing materials toward him.
“You just saw Father. What could you possibly have to say that you couldn’t say then, and have to write down instead?” Xiao Jinshi asked crossly.
Is he planning to complain to Father about me?
He wanted to see how Xiao Biehe would manage to write with no table to speak of, and what exactly he would write!
Kneeling in the snow, the young man spread a thin sheet of paper across his palm. He gently blew away the snowflakes that settled on it, his movements graceful and composed. It looked less like he was being punished and more as if he were creating a beautiful work of art.
Xiao Jinshi grew more agitated.
Since childhood, his father and mother had been incredibly lenient with him. The difference in how his father treated him versus Xiao Biehe was like night and day. His father demanded perfection from Xiao Biehe in everything, yet held no expectations for Jinshi; even when Jinshi caused trouble, his father would simply praise him for being “energetic.”
His mother was even more extreme. She loathed Xiao Biehe, refusing to see him and forbidding him from visiting her.
As a child, Xiao Jinshi had been smug, knowing he possessed everything Xiao Biehe lacked within the manor. But as they grew older, Xiao Biehe became more beloved by the people and more capable, and the gap between them widened into a chasm. When people mentioned the General’s Manor, the commoners and officials only knew Xiao Biehe. Even visiting envoys from foreign nations knew his name, while no one remembered Jinshi.
We are both sons of the General’s Manor!
From then on, Xiao Jinshi began to study the classics, history, etiquette, and military strategy with grueling intensity. He even mimicked Xiao Biehe’s every move how he spoke, his posture, his swordsmanship. He even traded his preferred heavy broadsword for a more elegant, refined straight sword. For a time, he even swapped his favorite vibrant clothes for plain white robes.
Yet, people still only remembered Xiao Biehe. Even the Crown Prince loved Xiao Biehe, and the Emperor praised him endlessly, while Jinshi was merely “the Third Son of General Xiao.”
By the time Xiao Biehe was in his teens, he had already achieved numerous military honors. Time and again, he turned the tide of losing battles into grand victories. No matter how much Xiao Jinshi tried to block out that name, it constantly reached his ears.
The entire nation of Liang and its neighbors were shaken once more by the prophecy of the Wuyi tribe, which had vanished decades ago: “The heavens shall send a Divine Talent to save the world from suffering; whoever gains his aid shall gain the world.” The prophecy, which had faded from memory, surged back into the public consciousness. People wondered if this Divine Talent was none other than the Young General, Xiao Biehe. Some nations even began to scheme to steal this genius for themselves.
Xiao Jinshi admitted he was jealous bitterly jealous. He hated Xiao Biehe. During that time, he had even hoped that this elder brother, with whom he was barely acquainted, would simply die on the battlefield.
While Xiao Biehe won glory in war, Jinshi studied martial arts and military theory at home, desperate to prove to his father and the world that he was not inferior. His hard work eventually bore fruit; at fourteen, he took first place in the second tier of the martial imperial examinations.
However, in that very same year, Xiao Biehe took first place in both the civil and martial examinations simultaneously.
Xiao Jinshi had practiced until his hands bled, rising before dawn to study and training until midnight. Xiao Biehe, constantly on the battlefield, had far less time to study. Later, Jinshi learned from soldiers in the camp that Xiao Biehe hadn’t even studied intentionally; participating in those exams had been a mere coincidence.
Enraged, Xiao Jinshi had run away from home for three months, refusing to appear at the awards ceremony. When he returned, the commoners still didn’t remember him, except for the occasional whisper of “the Young General’s brother” or “the Scholar-General’s brother.”
Xiao Jinshi later learned that Xiao Biehe hadn’t even gone to collect his medals; he had returned to the military camp with his father two days before the ceremony.
Hmph. It’s one thing to be brilliant, Jinshi thought, but why must he act as if the things I dream of are things he can simply obtain without effort or care?
Watching Xiao Biehe write on the paper supported only by his hand, Jinshi noted that even for a warrior, his calligraphy was beautiful. Jinshi had tried to imitate his handwriting, but could never capture the essence.
When Xiao Jinshi saw what was actually written on the paper, his anger flared. He lunged to snatch the paper away. “What nonsense is this!”
Xiao Biehe had not written a complaint about being bullied. Instead, he had written that the Emperor harbored ill intentions toward the General’s Manor and might move against them. He was urging his father to be cautious.
The Xiao family had been loyal martyrs for generations. In this generation, his father and brother had achieved countless merits. Soon, Jinshi himself would go to war and add to their glory.
While Jinshi felt inferior to Xiao Biehe, he knew he was more than capable compared to other soldiers. Their family was the pillar of Great Liang. How could the Emperor want to eradicate them? Besides, the Crown Prince loved Xiao Biehe and had requested a marriage decree it was impossible.
Xiao Biehe was faster. Before Jinshi could grab the paper, his other hand pinned it down. In his fury, Jinshi’s nails dug deep into the back of Xiao Biehe’s hand.
Blood welled from the scratches. Xiao Jinshi looked down at the hand he was gripping, struck for the first time by how thin and cold Xiao Biehe’s hand felt.
How does a hand like this hold a sword and win so many battles? It didn’t look like the hand of a warrior; it looked like the hand of a frail, beautiful scholar.
Suddenly, Jinshi remembered that this person was not just a War God, but also the top scholar from the imperial exams two years ago.
His anger flared again. Why? Why does all the glory belong to him? Why is he so powerful?
Is he truly the genius chosen by the heavens to save the world? Why couldn’t that genius have been me?
Xiao Biehe pushed Jinshi’s hand back and meticulously folded the paper. He acted as if he hadn’t noticed his brother’s resentment. “Father will not listen if I speak to him in person. May I trouble you to deliver this to him?”
Xiao Biehe had long sensed the Emperor’s growing intolerance. He had warned his father several times, but his father, fiercely loyal, refused to believe him and had punished him for his “disloyalty.” Earlier, his father hadn’t given him a chance to speak, so he had to write it down.
Xiao Jinshi stood in the snow, his clothes now covered in white. The blizzard was intensifying, obscuring the surrounding buildings.
Jinshi took the folded paper between two fingers, his gaze sharp and unkind. “Why should I help you? Aren’t you afraid I’ll just tear it to pieces right now?”
Xiao Biehe’s expression remained calm. “It is a matter of great importance. I hope you will not tear it.”
“If it’s so important, why don’t you give it to him yourself?”
“I am being punished; I cannot leave,” Xiao Biehe said. “Father is more willing to listen to you.”
Xiao Jinshi couldn’t describe the mixture of emotions he felt. He gripped the paper tightly, his gaze shifting from anger to something strange and uncomfortable.
Xiao Biehe was always like this better than him at everything, and with a better temperament to boot. Since childhood, Jinshi had gone out of his way to provoke him, hoping to goad him into an outburst so he could run to their parents and get him punished. Or, at the very least, he just wanted to see Xiao Biehe look angry.
But Xiao Biehe never held a grudge. He never got angry. He was like an immortal who had descended from the heavens, devoid of worldly desires. It made Jinshi feel ridiculous by comparison.
Enraged, Jinshi stuffed the letter crudely into his robes. “Since you’re begging me, I’ll see how I feel. If I’m in a good mood, I might deliver it. If I’m in a bad mood, I might give it to the Emperor at your banquet tomorrow and let him charge you with treason.”
Jinshi emphasized the word “treason”, a reference to the rumors that had been circulating for the past two months. Though Jinshi thought it was absurd and impossible, he said it anyway before storming out of the shrine into the snow.
Once Jinshi was gone and no one was watching, beads of cold sweat broke out on Xiao Biehe’s forehead. He gritted his teeth in silent endurance.
His face, already pale, was now completely devoid of color.
Because he was born three months premature, his health had always been poor. His mother disliked him, and he had been raised by a wet nurse who passed away when he was four. After that, there were times when he couldn’t even get medicine when he was ill.
When he was seven, his father returned to the manor in triumph and took him along to the military camp for training. The conditions there were harsh constant wind and sand, and the food was far from the refined meals of the capital. Yet, Xiao Biehe adapted quickly. He was a natural at martial arts and strategy. Initially, the soldiers protected him out of respect for the General, but as he grew, his talent became undeniable. By ten, his martial skills rivaled his father’s best lieutenant. Eventually, his strategic mind surpassed even his father’s.
The troops shifted from protecting him to revering him, viewing him as their second commander in all but name.
However, Xiao Changfeng remained incredibly strict. Because Biehe was his son and possessed such talent, he was even more hyper-critical, treating him with a severity far beyond any other soldier.
The wind and snow at the border were colder than in the capital. Xiao Biehe’s thin frame had knelt in those blizzards countless times, from childhood into adulthood.
His thin, pale hands pressed against his knees. Maintaining his upright kneeling posture, the young man’s brow furrowed slightly as he coughed up a mouthful of blood.