Between now and then, dead silence across the Eternal Sea, only the ghostly white mist tangled about the hooves of the horses.

Herr Gen’s expression stirred in the darkness, but it was clearly a smirk. “The Ghost Sovereign of Chienye discerns the grainiest changes of the autumn birds; it really can’t get past you. This humble one has acted, in confidence, with absolute discretion, yet where has it slipped?”

“He Sir has no need for humility. Just that Huang Weisong’s lips are not as tight as you think,” Yujien said mildly.

Herr Gen lifted his smiling eyes, his gaze gradually falling onto his chest. “So that’s how it is. It looks like this humble one’s years of blood and sweat dormancy had all gone to waste.” Between his words, he actually acknowledged the matter.

Princess Uli’s eye rims nearly burst from shock. Her bloodshot eyes directed at her husband, she shrieked: “You… are a Southern man, named He Yingzhen?”

“Yes.” Her Gen gave a bright and clear laugh. “I beg for the princess’s forgiveness, for many things had to be kept secret. This humble one is much obliged for your kindness these past years. Apologies!” The silver lance made a point, he ordered left and right, “Formation!”

A shrill horn call blared behind him. The Imperial Army’s formation changed immediately, spreading into two wings with the center in the rear. The clink and clank of heavy armors, the sounds dulled behind the white mist.

“Geese Wing Return formation?” Yujien scoffed, “Hadn’t sir witnessed how He Kejian lost that day? You nephew and uncle are of the same stubborn stem; neither sheds a tear until you see the coffin.”

The steed beneath him expired a huff. Herr Gen’s gaze gradually cooled. “Yujien Tianhung, my second-uncle died in your hands not from the failing of the formation, but the failure of the soldiers! His great wish in life was to settle the score with you using an equal number of elites! Dare you to accept my challenge?”

“So what about letting you have three thousand men and horses?” Flowing Fire shook in his hand, and small platoons of Ghost Army riders swarmed out like the slow draw of long, black skeletal chains from a mechanical box.

“All troops, heed my commands!” King Shrunle’s voice rang far, sounding even more ancient: “Herr Gen is not your commander, but a Southern spy! Good men of Khilan, how can you hark his orders?”

Herr Gen beamed at him and held an object high from his hand. “The Sun and Moon Tally is here, who dares to disobey?”

Princess Uli’s face fell into rue, and her voice in a rave: “Your… marriage with me was… all a scheme for your home country. That’s right, ever since the day you entered court, you’d asked for military authority with the utmost eagerness, rising from a common civilian all the way… to the position of National Defense Marshal. You bought soldiers and horses, solicited people’s affections, and gathered commanders and officers from Bi’ro, Shinran, Chienye, and Western Liang as your trusted subordinates. Your methods weren’t very clever, but I… how couldn’t I see it?” Then with a sudden gasp, she shrieked, “So… So, you didn’t truly want to be with her either, you wanted to… elicit my envy, so as to achieve your… unspeakable ends.” She raised her eyes to Queen Lan, the latter also dull in her gaze, like a cry and a laugh.

“Yes, but sadly I’ve failed by a slight, and in the end, can only snatch defeat at the jaws of victory,” Herr Gen said gently, and turned to Yujien with a smile. “This humble one is suddenly curious about how and when did the General learn of my identity?”

“Early this year,” said Yujien, candidly.

A chill fleeted across Herr Gen’s eyes. His smile remained unchanged. “So the General has been aware of my small plans for as clear your palm and fingers. And all this reaping at the end of the harvest has taken no effort at all. Yet… Queen Lan is your sworn sister, the princess is your friend of many years, and the great king is your past benefactor. Are you not afraid of other’s chilled teeth and hearts?

Yujien burst out a great guffaw, almost as if having just heard the greatest jest under heaven.

“Why does the General laugh?” Herr Gen inquired coolly.

Yujien’s laughter receded with a shake of his head. “I had been very baffled, Huang Weisong sent your bunch of noble spawns to mole in the various tribes, what was his intentions, what path did he want to walk? Having heard your words just now, I finally saw the light.”

Beneath the brilliant flamelight, the eyes beneath the mask chilled like ice.

“Because you Southerners put too much weight on this word ‘love.’”

The corner of Herr Gen’s eye twitched, his gaze lowered, and he gave a resigned lament: “You’ve spoken right. We are foolish to speak of sentiments and morals with savage beasts.”

With that said, the white horse spun back and returned to the formation. He lifted his eyes again with a smirk.

“He Yingzhen of the Southern Empire, hereby humbly asks for a challenge with the Chienye Ghost Sovereign.”

Signal banners swept the winds. The central Khilan army dissolved and reassembled into a chaotic great conformation: the layout was messy without a head, the riders strewn apart, and from afar, it looked like a huge eight-winged bird, wing after wing, prowling at prey. Herr Gen sat tall on his horse within, and a rectangular ballista turret reared close behind, setting as the pinning anchor.

Yujien’s eagle gaze slowly whirled about him, and he gave a contemptuous jeer. “He Kejian declared himself distinguished above the masses, yet he was only furtively flipping through the geniuses of forerunners. Parroting after another’s wisdom, how could he not lose?” A bark of command, and the eight columns of the Ghost Army opened in unison. The mounted heavy crossbowmen battalion, the light bow guards, the shield vessels, the armored soldiers, the spearmen, and the swordsmen distributed in perfect order, like spores in the wind, moving under the call of heaven.

Amongst the rueful beats of golden drums, the two sides drew in the distance. The eight-winged Khilan army spread out apart, opened their bows, volley-fired, and filled the sky with a black rain. Ghost Army shield vessels shouted calls, and with their hooves pounding like drums, they surrounded forward like galvanized city walls and blocked out the honey-combed arrow storm. The Khilan army morphed its center into a tortuous bent, and like a clawing predator, it swooped towards the throat. The Ghost Army dashed with a sudden change and, like the soft breeze of winds and clouds, lightly ducked away. The Khilan army then retracted its sharp claws and rapidly flapped its wings, wanting to disperse the enemy to the four directions. Yet, like a black lightning, the Ghost Army sliced apart the smog with a single slash and drove itself in.

Qu Fongning keenly watched the battle. As he saw Herr Gen missing three strikes, a bitterness came over his heart: “If those two are jousting face to face, Big Brother Herr already lost by now.” Then the hold around his waist tightened. Yujien bent down and leaned into his ear with a low whisper, “Ningning, let me give you something.”

His temples jumped, Qu Fongning raised his head. Yujien spoke while driving Shadow Leaper: “This, in go tactics, is called breaking the veins; in martial arts, it is called attacking the vitals. In the art of war, we say: to shoot the man, first shoot the horse, and to capture the thieves, first capture their lord.” Between the words, the nimble hooves flew through interstices like the wind, and in the blink of an eye, they zoomed from a flying corner into the array. From his hand, Flowing Fire drew a high red beam which descended like a spider’s cobweb. Endless screams accompanied by splattering limbs, none survived the enmeshment. The Ghost Army seized the chance to loose the heavy crossbows, tearing open a wound at the center.

Herr Gen bellowed orders while his lancetip restlessly changed directions to conduct the morph of the conformation. Just as the geese wings returned, a snow-white fletching broke across ether and came upon him, the penetrating angle and the crashing momentum with which it came made it nearly impossible to dodge. Yet his reaction was also extremely swift. With the point of his lance, he soared into the sky from the horseback, his feet lightly tapped the ballista podium, and landed squarely on the turret. He whirled around and saw Qu Fongning sitting before Yujien, with a snow-white longbow pulled full to droop, slowly aiming at himself, and he drew a smile. “Brother Fongning.”

“Big Brother Herr.” Qu Fongning nodded at him. The arrow let fly, and before it landed on him, a shield vessel had blocked it.

Herr Gen stood in the mist, his sleeves fluttering lightly, and flamelight reflecting in rippling shimmers across his silver helm, his grace at its sublimity. “A pity, a pity, Brother Herr always admired you. If we didn’t meet with arms today, I truly did not want to be your enemy.”

Qu Fongning shook his head, tapped his feet and leaped onto the ballista turret, distancing no more than five zhang from him. “Big Brother Herr, I’d wanted us to be lifelong friends. But Southerners and us, we’re born enemies.”

“Never as friends again, truly my deepest regrets,” Herr Gen signed. And the silver lance spun, blooming in resplendence. “Your honor has already lost in my hands once, dare to challenge me again?”

Qu Fongning turned his palm, and a placid cold seeped out between his fingers; it was Watering Chill. A lighting white flash, and Herr Gen’s wrist guard was already sliced off in an instant.

Herr Gen drooped his eyes for a glance, the smile deepening in his gaze.

“Worlds apart from last, it looks like I must properly try thy skills.”

By now, the Khilan formation had already changed. It backed against the Eternal Rock, the periphery rectangular and the inside circular, and the head linked with the tail. Yujien stood within, surrounded by an empty field, with a mocking tone: “This formation was derived from Dugu’s eight arrays of rocks and clouds, which were pretty interesting. A pity He Kejian was a foolish cow who was as stiff as a wooden horse; he drew the tiger like a dog and made himself a fool for all to see.”

Herr Gen brandished his silver lance into a rapid dance, tangling with Qu Fongning. As he heard, he unhurriedly ordered his cavalries to spur the array. “I’m all ears,” he said.

“Break no living, and connect none alive¹; live to die, as gods and demons. This formation has no pull between life and death, how are you to attack? If the array is not meant for victory, what is the use? This is one,” said Yujien.

“Years ago,” said Herr Gen, “my country used this conformation before the city gates of Lintao, and the barbarians could not win the siege for three months, and had to withdraw in loss.”

“Being only able to defend is already a defeat,” Yujien said coolly. “For this I can’t blame He Kejian. You guys had your fill of beatings throughout the years, long jelly in the legs, why would there be any guts to fight back?”

“Much obliged for the General’s teaching. Is there two?” Herr Gen said with a laugh. As they spoke, his breastplate mirror gave a crack. It had been slashed into halves.

Yujien watched Qu Fongning’s graceful form, the corner of his lips curled. “He Kejian had vainly proclaimed that ‘This array I created shall shield the Southern Empire for a hundred years; devour a thousand armies and swallow ten thousand horses, these mighty geese wings will cover the skies!’ Yet, of any godly arrays throughout the ages, all first consider the land, and then plan by the land. What is the point of forming an array and waiting for someone to break it? Why should the tens of thousands of men and horses come to your grasp? And this over reliance on techniques and methods is the deep-seated weakness of your Southern Empire.”

Between his words, the Ghost Army struck the left and rear, progressively tightening up. The Khilan geese wings splayed with difficulty, as if being caught at the neck by a hunter, and gradually became immobile.

Herr Gen gave a thought and bowed his head. “The General’s points truly lift the fog.” The silvery lance drew bouquets and forced Qu Fongning back a large pace.

The white mist streamed about the turret, masking the two figures unclear. They heard Qu Fongning raising his voice, “Big Brother Herr, I have a word of entreaty: the Southern Empire is a weak country who will soon fall to Northern tribes. Why should you die for them? You are good at arms and strong in lead, why don’t you surrender?”

“Brother Fongning, have you seen the Southern spring?” Herr Gen gave a broad smile. “Every year, spring in the Third month, the greens grow and the birds fly, and the willows touch the banks. For the smiles of this river south, I fear no death in the hinter north! I am a humble man of House He, I sooner die with the waves, and not chase life on the winds. The tower is collapsing, I shall be the lone post; the tide is coming, I shall accept the ruin!” The meaning of his lance changed, and the bloom marks turned malignant; it was the deathly sinister Enrapturing Heart Bloom.

“I…” Qu Fongning said with difficulty, the tip of his blade in a light shudder. “I’ll give you an honorable patriot death.” The sword struck and slashed, falling the blooms like rain. Herr Gen was forced to retreat the lance in guard, losing his ground to attack, but still nowhere near defeat.

He threw his head back to a roaring laugh. “‘The heart knew no return, save a name for posterity.²’” His gaze flung back to Qu Fongning, as sharp as frost, but looming with a sense of urge.

Qu Fongning drooped his lashes, curled his frame into a leap, almost lunging into Herr Gen’s arms. Then a whirl, a drop of his waist, a rapid spin, a one-handed side flick, a turn of his wrist, and the Watering Chill made a sudden point from his hand, plunging straight into Herr Gen’s chest.

Watering Chill shaved steel like mud, a blossom of blood instantly drowned the cloud patterns on Herr Gen’s breast. Qu Fongning held tight to the sword hilt in one hand until Herr Gen’s heavy body collapsed onto his shoulder.

The Khilan army witnessed the fall of their commander and promptly fell into chaos; the flag bearer didn’t know what to do, and shouts of fleeing came relentlessly to the ears. On the frozen earth and cold ice, Qu Fongning held still. No one knew the expression beneath the mask.

Herr Gen’s weak but smiling voice rang low by his ears: “Don’t cry, what are you crying for? Silly child, from now on you’ll be all alone again!”

The fingers which held the sword clasped green, and his back was throbbing ever so faintly.

He heard Herr Gen’s dimmer and dimmer voice say: “Big Brother Herr… at last improved those two lines, will you… hear it? It’s…”

His breaths came shorter and shorter, but his speech still held a smile, and sublimely gentle.

“Dreaming again of Jiangling’s hills and rivers, thousand waves and ten thousand crossings.”

His hand extended towards Qu Fongning’s shoulder, but his strength gave out half-way and, with a clang, the silver lance dropped to the ground.

“Your commander is dead; resistance is futile!” Yujien bellowed. His tactics rolled fast, thrusting into the Khilan army’s live gate and cutting off their end path.

Far out of the battle circle, Uli saw Herr Gen’s frame swaying in falter, and screamed, “Herr Gen, Herr Gen!’

Qu Fongning slowly rose from the ballista turret, recovered the blood-soaked blade, and, with one hand, pushed down Herr Gen’s body, letting it disappear under the tides of battle.

Uli growled as if someone had snapped her throat, a sound seeming from the depth of the abyss: “You killed him. You killed him.”

Yujien shifted his brows. The hooves rose and fell, and he barred himself in front of Qu Fongning, preventing her from jumping to harm.

“Daughter,” signed King Shrunle, “Southern men are false and vile, and heartless to nature. He sowed the discord between this lone one and you… to this. His death is not a pity, no need to be upset over him.”

Uli kept silent for some time, and two streaks of tears trickled down her dark-tanned skin.

King Shrunle, eyes deeply pained, called to her, “Daughter, come here to da.”

Uli clambered off the horse and trudged one step after another towards King Shrunle, keeping a blind eye to the Ghost Army standing on the two sides.

Uli’s face showed a bitter smile, her steps vacant, and the trembles of her shoulders came faster and faster, looking like she was about to fling herself to wail in King Shrunle’s arms.

Suddenly, Queen Lan gave an excruciating scream, the cry tearing across the Eternal Sea. Uli had stolen a spear just in that moment and thrusted the spear tip into her swollen belly!

The crowd shouted in horror. Uli’s smile contorted into that of a demon. And with two hands, she plunged the spear in, churned a vicious twist with the spearhead, and wrenched out a ball of gory mess.

Queen Lan’s thin body fell back, her abdomen exploded out a rain of bloody flesh, and sprayed full of Princess Uli’s head and face.

And from the bottom of the Eternal Rock, came a soul-shattering howl: “A’lan—!!”

Queen Lan was covered in blood and soil, and her plain gown had dyed blood red. Guo Wuliang ran in, staggering. His two knees curled, and he knelt by her side, his eyes gushed red.

Queen Lan’s lips showed the wisp of a smile. “Liang-ge, you’re finally here. I’ve… waited for so long,” she said weakly.

Guo Wuliang rocked his head like a mad tiger. His tears splattered down one drop after another, falling on Queen Lan’s pale, pallid face.

Queen Lan had no more strength to lift her eyes, her lash wings shuddered, and she cooed: “The white crane… is going home, wings spread, singing songs, so happy…” And with a smile on her lips, her breath gave out.

Guo Wuliang refused to give up. “A’lan, A’lan, wake up,” he cried. The veins popped across his hands. He shook violently at Queen Lan’s shoulders.

“General Guo, Lan… is gone,” said Dardum, dropping tears.

Guo Wuliang seemed to have gone unheard and persisted in shaking the body in his arms. Only until the blood of Queen Lan’s belly gradually congealed and ebbed no more did he finally start a gagging wail.

A few steps away, Princess Uli, under restraint on the ground by guards, instead started cackling like a night owl.

Guo Wuliang’s weeping ceased. He shifted, took up the lance, and wordlessly stood up.

“Wuliang, don’t act impulsively,” said Yujien’s low voice.

Guo Liang’s eye corners expanded to crack, and two thin streaks of blood gushed down. Upon the words, he remained silent and only tightened the hold on the body of the lance. But between now and then, with a furious roar, he burst up from flat ground, and using the lance as a pole, smashed Princess Uli’s upper body into pulp.

Yujien let out a short lament, ignited the ballista turret with a point of Flowing Fire, caught Qu Fongning into his arms, and commanded, “Charge.”

~

That night, the leaderless Khilan Imperial Army fled in defeat, and bodies leveled the Eternal Sea.

Late into the night, with a stroke of the gold fault blade, King Shrunle cut off his own white, ancient head.

The next day, Chienye proclaimed in solemnity to the nations: Khilan mourns the recent loss of their late sovereign, and with the new sovereign not yet established, Chienye, being her ally, shall temporarily act as the regent.

~

When Qu Fongning woke, the sky was not yet all bright. Laughter and voices rang high in the rookies’ camp, bustling with hoots, curses, shoves, and pushes.

He drew a big yawn, wrapped the blood-splattered Moon Frost onto his back, and went into the yurt with a glance, and said tiredly, “What’s with the clamor this early?”

Uighshön and the group saw him and all rose to greet him. They kicked aside the strewn line of heads on the ground and asked him to sit down for soup.

Qu Fongning gargled the soup and scoffed, “What’re you keeping all these heads for?”

“The boss doesn’t know. These heads are the real gems. The share of treasures and grains we’ll be receiving later on are all dependent on these,” said Uighshön, leaning close to him.

And he pointed to a millenarian captain outside and said enviously. “If we can make it to ‘Thousand Slain,’ there’ll even be extra rewards.”

Qu Fongning lifted his gaze, saw the captain with a golden skull tied to the waist by a gold thread, and made a thin smile. “That’s not so hard.”

Cher Bien listened with a stirring heart, but only snickered. “My little brother Fongning is the General’s beloved… Why would he take these petty coppers into his eyes? If you serve him well, he’ll take you on a big one someday. Something like General Herr, one of those is enough for you to eat for twenty years.”

As Uighshön heard the word eat, he salivated a mouthful of drool and swallowed. Cher Bien took the chance to pick up several heads, tucked them into his sleeves, and snuck away.

But Qu Fongning said no more. He pulled out Watering Chill from his boot and wiped it clean on his trousers.

Like a wash of ice water, Watering Chill attuned perfectly to Twelfth moon northern cold. The blade reflected his vibrant brows and eyes, blurred and comic.

And a line suddenly echoed in his head:

“… Jing Ke’s attempt on the Qin emperor’s life; foul play is bound to lose lives.”

His lips pursed tight, loss of words, and his lashes cast down, down.

~

Yujien’s great ger dropped low, but the man already sat up. He saw him walking in, rubbing his eyes and looking muddled, and smiled with his hand out and drew him close. “Where have you gone wild to these days?”

Qu Fongning made a bow drawing gesture and sounded a shoo with his lips.

His undershirt loosened, Yujien looped him half into his arms. “How many did you kill? Dropped the old boy and ran off, scared I’m going to eat you?”

“You… were the one discussing things in the palace.” Qu Fongning lifted his head stupidly.

Yujien let out a laugh. “Blaming me now?” He kissed his temple and gave a small sign. “With King Shrunle and Uli both dead, Khilan has lost their pillar; chaos is unavoidable, and the false edict will not be of great use. Wuliang… is all good, just this sentimental knot has too much weight.”

Qu Fongning’s raven-black eyes shifted a little. “You can’t blame General Guo for that. Princess Uli killed Queen Lan. He’d naturally be very angry and upset.”

Yujien shook his head. “I’m also aggrieved about A’lan’s murder. But matters of the state come first, one should not permit their own sentiments for misconduct. If a person cannot control their emotions, they are utterly foolish,” he said mildly.

Qu Fongning had his face right against his bare chest, somewhat awkwardly postured, and squirmed a little in discomfort. “General, say, why does Princess Uli hate Queen Lan so much, going so far as to risk her own life to cut open her belly?”

“This is something really inexplicable,” said Yujien, his brow peaks in a slight frown. “In those days, Uli had such forthright gallantry, far beyond common female warriors. Now she had instead turned into this jealous, teary woman. Southern men are skilled in playing with emotions; you can see much from this pip.” Finding him twisted into a dough braid, he helped him relieve the army boots and carried him into the covers.

Qu Fongning rested against his warm and cozy, human-shaped oven, half-closed his eyes and thought for a while. “I think it wasn’t like this.”

He turned back his head and regarded Yujien in full earnest. “Big Brother Herr, in the Princess’s heart, must have been an unparalleled hero, a gentle lover, and a proud husband. No matter if he was a spy, a traitor, a demon or a monster, the princess still idolized him and loved him. Queen Lan bore Big Brother Herr’s child, and the princess hated so much she didn’t even want her father anymore, and only wanted to kill her. I think, the princess must have been deeply envious of her.”

Yujien seemed to have grasped something. “Seems a little logical.” Then he suddenly came back around and gave him a smack on the head. “Herr Gen really is as good as you say?”

Qu Fongning snuffed. “My Big Brother Herr is really impressive. All handsome, and good at fights… I… liked him very much…”

The words unfinished, the hollows of his eyes reddened, and two lines of tears rushed out of the sockets.

Yujien was completely helpless at his ability of tearing at the word and took his fingers to give him two wipes. “Fine, I know he was your friend. You killed him, and your heart feels sad. No more crying.”

Qu Fongning escalated instead, burst into a bawl, and rubbed tears and snot all over his chest.

Yujien felt both charmed and a little disgusted, let him cry for a moment, and snorted. “That’s enough, sleeping in my arms and crying for another man,” he said, and went for a bite on his red-flushed ear. “Only I would indulge you like this.”

Qu Fongning cried, his body all hot and his cheeks puffed up, and raised his tied-up bowguard sleeve to wipe the tears, his eyes sneaking a peek at him.

Yujien watched him choking sobs in spasms, grimaced and laughed. “Still going to cry or not?”

Qu Fongning shook his head.

“Then shove your ass. The old boy gotta get up.” Yujien fixed his clothes.

Qu Fongning gave a thought, spun around and knelt between his legs, and face-to-face, offered him a kiss.

Yujien paused his movements and regarded the lashes drooping with tears. “What do you want to do, little monkey?”

Qu Fongning’s ear lobes were still red, but his eyes glistened clear. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Yujien finally came around and couldn’t help a roaring laugh. “Would the old boy hold a grudge against a dead man?” He pulled him into a deep kiss, got up, and left.

~

The bleak sun, like a shriveled-up hand, caressed the dead floating along the Lii water. The once prosperous Oghuz market had been razed into a stretch of scorched earth.

Qu Fongning followed the march here and stopped his steed by the waterside. A dead camel with a gold-trimmed red saddle slowly drifted past, disappearing at the end of the stream.

“Za’yii and Biro, these two bandits came from all directions and ransacked everything clean, and didn’t even leave half a living item behind for us!” Uighshön was complaining behind him, counted the heads behind his horse, and became even more furious. “Fuck their grandmothers, only need four more until a full hundred!”

“Killed the people and all. They even turned out all the pockets and didn’t even leave behind a single scrape of copper.” Cher Bien had another sort of complaint. He turned upside down on his horse’s belly, jabbed a few pokes on a fishmonger’s corpse, and pulled out a string of fish sausages. He stuffed it before his nose for a sniff, almost fainted from the stench, and whisked to throw it back.

Gerrgu had hid something in the front of his fur cloak, and was now carefully holding it in his hand. Amidst the reek, Cher Bien glimpsed it, and exclaimed: “Brother Gu, with this land stark all around, where did you get a live rabbit from?”

Grown short, Uighshön craned up his head and only saw a snow-white ball in a stirring hunch, and gulped his drool. “This frigid air and frozen earth. It can’t be that brother Gu is thinking of the boys and is preparing to let everybody break the fast?”

Gerrgu made a stupid smile. “It’s a fox.” He pulled open his collar a little for them to see.

Cher Bien understood and squinted to a winking grin. “I know, the woman likes this.” And he threw a kick at Uighshön’s warhorse. “Go! Wipe your drool!”

Gerrgu stretched out two stubby fingers, touched the little fox’s head, and tucked it back into his bosom. He whirled around and saw Qu Fongning, man and horse, standing by the waterside. The chill winds bit, and his frame thin. He thus went forth and enquired in concern, “Little brother, what are you looking at?”

Qu Fongning retracted his gaze from a broken tallow lamp beneath the corner of a straw hovel, his lashes down cast, appearing sullen. He saw the white fox in his arms and his eyes brightened. “Where did you catch this from?”

Gerrgu answered truthfully, saw his dismay, and dangled the white fox onto his palm. “You can have it to play.”

Qu Fongning cupped the fox and made a weary smile. “Brother Gu, when we were little, you also often caught mice and birds to cheer me up. I’m bigger now.”

Gerrgu grinned. “In Brother Gu’s eyes, you’re always small.” He urged him to not blow on the headwind, mounted and left.

The white fox appeared limp, its pelt was also dull without shine. Qu Fongning held up its little body and asked in a low voice, “Have you seen Big Brother Herr?”

A battle cloak fluttered by the waterside, but it was Guo Wuliang leading his men forth to water the horses. His horse was laden with a coffin. When he rested, he gazed dully at the coffin.

Qu Fongning found his face ineffable of joy or sorrow, with black rings around his eyes. His heart ached and went towards him.

Guo Wuliang heard the footsteps, and his listless eyes lifted, focusing on him.

Qu Fongning gently passed over the white fox. “General Guo, this is… Queen Lan’s legacy.”

Guo Wuliang heard the words Queen Lan, and his muscles jerked. “A’lan… raised it?” the growling hiss came from the depth of his throat.

“Yes. It’s clever and obedient. Queen Lan always liked it,” said Qu Fongning, quietly.

Guo Wuliang’s throat rolled, and he slowly took over the white fox. The white fox laid down in good behavior, and extended its tongue out to lick at his palm.

“Foxes are sensitive to spirits. It… seems to like you too,” said Qu Fongning.

Guo Wuliang held the white fox with his hands. The hollows of his eyes reddened. He forced himself to nod and finally took his eyes to study him. “You are… that Syrs youth? I’ve heard… others mention you.”

Qu Fongning listened to his awkward word choice, found it odd, but dared not ask.

Guo Wuliang paused before saying, “When you get back to Tian… tell your commander general, I’d said some heavy words yesterday, and would he please forgive me.”

He touched the fox’s furs, his eyes holding tears, and said softly, “And thank you.”

Qu Fongning answered, bowed deep, and bid him farewell.

~

Night, dense chill by the waters. Qu Fongning didn’t don a fur coat, and when he entered the main pavilion, his teeth were chattering from the cold. Around the fire sat a pell-mell circle who heard his entering noises, and seven or eight heads turned to him in unison, and he halted, nonplussed.

Yujien sat in the center, sharing the blanket with everyone else. He held a scroll of lambskin military report and was speaking in a hushed tone. He saw him come in and rolled up the report with a snap. “Good. If more items come up, we’ll discuss tomorrow morning. Disperse!”

He had always been austere and sedate without smiles, even cheeky characters such as Suerhu dared not jest half a sense with him. But today, all went against the grain. The throng of commanders gaped at the sky and the earth; none moved. Dardum was grinning from ear to ear. “General, you here is very ah—warm. Old Dum wants to huddle in with you for a night, how is it?”

“Scram,” said Yujien, expressionless. He lifted his eye a touch at Qu Fongning, signaling him to come over.

Qu Fongning felt mortified in front of all these faces, walked to him saluting along the way, and carefully sat on the side.

Yujien ignored the row of humorous eyes and said to him, “Come closer.” He nonchalantly uncovered the warm blanket and threw it on him.

Qu Fongning saw those who lost the cover rocking the heaven with their sneezes, was so embarrassed he couldn’t even raise his head, and dared less to extend his hand to hold it.

“Bundle up,” Yujien said in a gentle voice.

The crowd exchanged looks, putting down wagers with their glances, betting whether Yujien would cloak his beloved son with his own hands.

And were all unguarded when Yujien’s chill gaze swept over. “Still not gone?”

The crowd was still afraid and progressively scrammed. Shivon was the last to go. As he rose, he bolted out a hand and pinched Qu Fongning’s cheek, chuckling. “Boy, see how vicious he is! You’ll soon be beaten to death by being his son. How about taking me as a father—” A sudden strange screech; he jumped. Half of a walnut had flown out from Yujien’s hand.

“Dogged gall big enough for the sky! Swindling up my alley here.”

Shivon ate another, and with piercing squeals, he ran away with his hand on his ass.

Yujien then finally beheld him with a frown and admonished, “Where did you go to freeze up like this? Don’t know how to put on clothes anymore?” He lifted the warm blanket and wrapped him up.

“You come in too.” Qu Fongning lifted up one corner.

Yujien didn’t say yes or no. He spread his legs and looped him into his arms, shook open the warm blanket, and wrapped the both of them together, taking off his mask along the way.

Qu Fongning saw the flamelight casting shadows on the vesture surfaces, not knowing whether there were people looking from outside. “You’re not scared?” he said, worried.

“What?” Yujien regarded him with perfect attention.

“If they know…” mumbled Qu Fongning.

Yujien slowly lowered his head, his breath approaching him. “So what if they know?”

Qu Fongning was going to say something more, but he was already kissing him. The kiss assailed with conquest, eager and fervent. Qu Fongning was kissed into rearing, and holding tight against his shoulder, he gasped for air.

Yujien’s chest also rose and fell, appearing a little worked up. As they parted, he even puckered his lips, wanting more.

“You… you like people watching?” His lips freshly red, Qu Fongning breathed and watched him.

A curious laughter came about Yujien’s eyes. But he said nothing, kissed down once more, and his hand came up under his shirt, fondling his nipple.

Qu Fongning was softened to the waist and said, squirming, “Outside…”

Yujien’s loins were as hard as steel. He shoved against him, rasping: “Ningning, Da-ge wants to do you.”

Qu Fongning heard the word do, and the tinkling spread from his ear canal all across his body, and his gaze almost scattered. “How to… do?”

Yujien’s finger brushed up his lip, his gaze a dull gloom. Qu Fongning stiffed at his shoulders, and the warmth on his body receded somewhat.

Yujien found his gaze flickering, and thus said, “Pass if you are unwilling.” He loosened his dark bronze buckle, helped him release, and he himself came against the back of his thighs.

His tone was inscrutable, but Qu Fongning faintly felt his disappointment. Not knowing why, he actually felt a little sorry about it.

When his breathing evened, he rested against his chest and conveyed Guo Wuliang’s words. “What a big deal, even asked someone to pass the word. It’s precisely of this primness that Wuliang hasn’t rid the Southern air.”

“General Guo is a Southern man?” asked Qu Fongning, curious.

“He can count as half a Southerner. His birth mother was a native of Hanyang, long passed now. We knew each other young and never took him as an outsider. But the son raised by a lady of a literary house of the Central Plains is undoubtedly a little different. His speech and demeanor are a lot more refined than us grassland savages,” said Yujien.

Qu Fongning seemed to nod in half-understanding, and asked again, “Did he offend you yesterday?”

“Can’t really say offended. He said, back in the days, I neglected the sentiments of sworn siblingship to forge the marriage alliance with Khilan, and buried A’lan’s lifelong happiness and took away the smiles from her face forever. How every measure of land we gained today was paved by A’lan’s tears. And with three signs at every verse, metaphors and allusions, said how my heart was harder than a thousand-year stone, my heart colder than the ice of Heavenly Mountain. I wasn’t really listening.”

“You’re not angry?” Qu Fongning lifted his eyes at him.

“Angry for what?” Yujien let out a laugh, and threw him onto the bed. “With that leisure, I sooner sleep with you.”

Qu Fongning’s trousers still not pulled up, he cuddled with him, feeling nowhere on his body not in perfect attunement, warm and comfy. He stumbled a bit, before opening his mouth, “I…”

Yujien lowered his head, looking at him, and knew what he was about to say. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Qu Fongning was muted. A moment later, he climbed up to his ear and asked in a whisper, “What does it feel like?”

“I can’t say,” said Yujien, hesitated, and hugged him. “Comfier than using your hand.”

Qu Fongning thought about it, and his voice turned smaller. “Others have done it for you, right?”

Yujien chuckled, and also breathed low by his ear, “I like you to do it for me. Want to cum in your mouth, make you drink it down.” He touched his lips. “The old boy really wants to do you to tears, but also can’t fucking bear to do so.”

Qu Fongning’s cheeks smoldered to a burning red, and didn’t subside for a long time. Their gazes traded in entanglement, kissed deep for long, and finally fell heavily asleep.

~

When Khilan’s great matter finally settled, it was already the spring moon of the new year.

The Second Month, the fourteenth, the City of Ghost opened with a grand feast to reward the merits. The rookie battalion made a proud score and was drafted into the Li Ignis Division. Qu Fongning, with the three accounts of the Moon’s Stellar Order, Herr Gen, and Jiangnan weaving process, placed first merit, and was exceptionally appointed as one of twelve centurion captains of the Spring Sun battalion.

That night, with golden songs and lusty dances, joyous cheers boom across the city. The famed general of Chienye all came to toast Yujien and his eight divisions.

Little Ting’yu also followed the crowd here. He first gave a round of congratulations and then took his hand with a sign. “I’ve thought for many days and can’t think of what to give you. Anything I can give, you’ve already got.”

Qu Fongning’s forearms, collars, and shoulders were all emblazoned with emblems of nvquay. His entire person sparkled with a silvery light. Upon his words, he grinned and squatted by his side. “You brought this many people to come see me. Isn’t this the best gift ever?”

Little Ting’yu smiled and introduced him to his subordinates. These new officers were all personally promoted by Little Ting’yu, who they both respected and revered, and hence they even had some more veneration towards Qu Fongning. He found the color of distress still lingering across Little Ting’yu’s temples, and said with a quiet chuckle, “Now everybody is heeding you obediently, what are you still distressed about?”

Little Ting’yu down cast his eyes and seemed a little spiritless. “You still need the words for people to hear. I had been fully ambitious earlier, drawing nineteen plans, which I thought were incomparably ingenious. But who would know that the armory corps turned me down at first look, said that the mechanism was too complicated, and no modern technology can support it. Those old gaffers even took the opportunity to scold me, saying how I was being vagrant from proper duty. And Mother also urged me to return to the old regime…” He rubbed his temples and shook his head. “I really can’t hold it much longer.”

Qu Fongning fell silent for a moment, spread out his palms, and told him, “I have a friend who’s got a background with the smithing corps. He often has some peculiar ideas. I’ll take it to him for a look, perhaps he’ll have some ways.”

Little Ting’yu dubiously gave the stack of plans to him. Lifting his eyes, he looked past him. “… That’s your friend?”

Qu Fongning swiveled around for a look and laughed. “Not this one.” He pointed to the green-gowned, small-coated, and reclining against the wine delivery cart like a flower, Nien Hanr. “That’s the pretty girl I told you about.”

“You’ve got lots of friends,” Little Ting’yu signed quietly.

“You’re the best one.” Qu Fongning immediately posted onto his armrest.

Little Ting’yu gave him a laughing punch and had people push him away. Nien Hanr floated coyingly to his side, hissing insidiously, “Captain Qu’s got some appetite, cripple and ghost, he turns none away.”

Qu Fongning stroked his cheek. “Man and all, ghost and all, big brother always has a place for you in my heart.” He ordered the wine to be brought down the cart and dropped his voice. “Help me track something down.” And he told him about the origins of Guo Wuliang’s mother. “Why should I help you?” said Nien Hanr, coldly. “In truth, you don’t need to help me. How can I force you?” said Qu Fongning, frankly. Between the words, someone called him. He lifted his military boots and was about to leave.

Nien Hanr gurgled in his throat, and started slowly behind him, “How does it feel to slay a comrade?”

Qu Fongning’s shoulders stiffened. The footsteps halted.

A viper-like grin spread across Nien Hanr’s face. “I’m guessing he gave you your Moon’s Stellar Order? Tsk, tsk, truly a good, self-sacrificing man. The Southern Country has this sort of noble sons, perhaps they really can establish peace and prosperity, who knows. But what a pity, your Big Brother Herr… will never see that day.”

He lifted his skinny jaw, admiring Qu Fongning’s clasped hand and fluctuating chest, his grin intensifying all the more.

And was sharply taken aback when Qu Fongning flicked his eyes for a smile. “You just want to see me like this, yes?”

The outrage and pain on his face were wiped clean like a face changer.

Nien Hanr’s expression darkened instead.

He only heard Qu Fongning’s lazy drawl ringing, “There is no return for a drawn bow. Since big brother has gone on this path, even if it’s a mountain of knives or a sea of flame, I will continue this march. Not just to mention He Da-ge, hereafter even if I need to take a stab at my own heart, I will never so much as to crease my brows.” And he smiled at him. “Same to you.”

Having said that, he walked straight towards the center court. Yujien was sitting with men by the fire, quite some distance from him, and called from afar, “Come here!”

This holler even shook the embers. Qu Fongning was startled and went over obediently. Before he sat down, Yujien already grabbed him into his arms to be by his side. And he watched him making a swing with his right hand, yelling to the men by the fire, “The old boy’s feeling good today, here to introduce to you all, this! My kid. Qu… Ningning, what’s your name again?”

Oyghrmuki was long lost and gone drunk, flopped on the ground and limbs raised high, cheering loudly, “Little Syr! Little Syr!”

Yujien threw his head down and shoved him with a kick. His arm wrapped tightly around Qu Fongning, but he still couldn’t remember. “Well! Just knowing that he’s mine is enough! Drink!”

Cher Baochi held two beauties by his sides, wobbling his heads, and laughing, “Yours! Your what! If you don’t come clear, drink a cock! Wuliang, put it down!”

Yujien overturned his bowl with a slap. “Cock rubbish! Screw your mother, drink!”

Doused head full of liquor, Cher Baochi didn’t get mad, but pointed to him, cackling. “The boss ain’t gonna drink now anyhow!”

Qu Fongning was clasped so tight it hurt, and only felt him smelling all over of liquor and much departed from his usual demeanor. “General, you’re drunk,” he whispered.

“Bullshit!” Yujien snapped, “the old boy doesn’t fall with a thousand cups! Wuliang, you motherfucker, hold it up! I’ve been… brothers with you for thirty years. When have you ever seen the old boy drunk?”

Guo Wuliang appeared grim. He smiled wearily and raised his bowl. “I’ve never seen it. Since Tian-ge is so happy today, Wuliang shall take this bowl of liquor to apologize for my wrongs.” As he said, he threw back his head and downed it clean.

Yujien roared with laughter and shoved at his shoulder, almost sending him to stumble. “What wrongs can there be between brothers?” He downed a full bowl and hurried for it to be filled. This time he directed at Qu Fongning: “Captain Qu, let me honor a cup to you.”

Qu Fongning found Cher Baochi and the others watching him for the good show, and had to reply in a low voice, “Thank you, General.” He had wanted to receive it, but Yujien held fast to the bowl and sent it to his lips with his own hand. Helpless, he had to let him feed a sip. The liquor was unbeatably strong; it entered the throat like a burning knife, and gagged him into multiple coughs. “What’s the use? Can’t even drink!” Yujien hooted. He downed the remaining liquor from the bowl and laughed. “The old boy’ll drink it for you!”

Qu Fongning had coughed to tears filling his eyes, but he saw clearly where he placed his lips was where he had drunk from. Yujien airily threw away the liquor bowl, and saw the face lifted up to him, cheeks fully flushed. And the hand on his shoulder stirred. “What’re you looking at me for?”

Qu Fongning shook his head and said quietly, “Let me escort you back?”

Yujien squinted to study him for a moment, seeming to consider. Qu Fongning took the opening to get up and help his enormous frame up. Yet Cher Baochi curled around his leg and wedged Qu Fongning in. “Nope, you can’t go! Come here, do a dance for Uncle Ulan, and Uncle Ulan will tell you when your dad was—”

Yujien stomped over a thunderous kick. “Don’t bully the old boy’s kid! Scram!”

Cher Baochi rolled over, screaming and shouting, wallowed on the ground, and laughed in a fit of hysteria. Oyghrmuki rolled his head onto him and started snoring.

~

With the strength of nine oxen and two tigers, Qu Fongning finally supported Yujien staggering before the ger. The guards were drinking in the festivity, and it was pitch-black on the peaks. Just as they entered the main ger, his body weighed heavy and Yujien had already pressed him face up onto the ground. In his panic, he only cried “General,” and his lips were already savagely sealed and sucked as if in a frenzy. Yujien’s air had sweltered to a boil, and mixed in with the thick alcoholic vapor, his movements were much rougher than usual. He sucked his lips to swell and him almost into fainting.

His back pinned onto something, and scared of the guards’ prying eyes, he panicked, “Not here, wait a moment…” Yujien didn’t want him to open his mouth at all. He sniffed the scent on his face in fascination, his tongue ceaselessly licked at his cheeks and tongue, and his rigid loins pounded at him like intercourse. Qu Fongning pushed hard at his chest and writhed. “You’ve drunk too much!”

Yujien abruptly stopped. Scarlet red eyes fixed on him, and he mumbled to himself. “I? drank too much?” He laughed with a shake of his head. “Impossible. I know you, know who you are.”

Qu Fongning held against him helplessly, and listened to his husky voice making one word after another, “You are Qu Fongning. My beloved student, my little kid, my Spring Sun Battalion’s captain, my… lover.”

The rims of Qu Fongning’s eyes warmed, and the defending hand instantly lost its strength. Yujien rode up, eagerly grinding his lower body, his hand probing into his rear, panting hoarsely. “Do you know how much the old boy wants to plunge into you? Every time I look at you again, I hold back, and not even bear to make you blow me. Fuck, you are almost driving the old boy mad.” He bit at his throat, rasping, “If you’re a fucking woman, the old boy would do you a thousand times every day, screw you wet through and through, and couldn’t close your legs from dawn to dusk, full of the old boy’s cum in your belly… make you pregnant, with the belly this big… and can’t even walk.”

Qu Fongning’s top had been lifted to his chest. He listened to his absurdly naked confession, his face and ears ran crimson, and his flank completely softened. Yujien took his boozy lips to savage kisses across his face, tugged twice at his leather belt but couldn’t make it budge, and lost his patience. A tearing rip. He tore his breeches into halves, spun to sit up, carried him up onto his thighs, and took his hands to his own crotch. “Take it off,” he ordered.

Amid his disruptions, and with a painstaking effort, Qu Fongning loosened his pelt and the bronze buckle. Yujien’s member under had long risen high to arms. A spread of smooth juice on the head had soaked a slick of wetness on the white underwear. Yujien reclined on the wolfhead throne’s armrest. He circled around Qu Fongning’s rear and thighs with one hand, and the other hand pressed him undeniably down to his loins.

So he had to open his mouth to take in the full swelling purplish redness. This time, the scent of his lower member was much stronger than the last. As it entered his mouth, he only sensed a thick pungency and an almond like acerbity. He tried all his might to open his mouth to swallow the shaft. But Yujien didn’t seem quite satisfied, and plucked out his member. “Use your tongue,” he ordered.

Utterly at a loss, he stretched out his tongue, tracing along the veins spiraling up the grisly meat blade. Yujien held the shaft, thrusting straight into his lips, leading him to change the angle of his licks. His eyes shut; he seemed in bliss. Then he pressed his head down even deeper. “Lick the bottom as well.” His heavy sacks slapped straight on Qu Fongning’s face. He could hardly breathe, and held on with a great effort to suck at his inner groins, changing left and right to lick at his huge pair of balls, until the lush hairs beneath his mouth were a thicket of wetness. Yujien’s breathing labored, and the sacks gradually tightened. Suddenly, he yanked at his hair and crushed him into his loins. The virile member poured into his mouth, plunging into the depth of his throat. And he ensued to push his head back and forth, forcing him to open his mouth to gulp and gorge.

Qu Fongning had been somewhat unwilling, was so roughly dove in, and felt very uncomfortable all around. When Yujien had thrusted twenty or thirty times, he felt the walls of his mouth all rubbed terribly sore and his throat burning like fire. Just as his eyes were about to go black, he felt his item suddenly swelling even larger and thicker. And the entire erection shook, then another shake; he actually came in his mouth.

A wave of asphyxia rushed his head, and he choked out with a surge of tears. Only until Yujien retreated from his mouth, still unsatisfied, did he forthwith get up to spit it out.

Yujien leaned against the chair with a slight recline of his head. A layer of red flush came upon his sinewy abs, and the persistent scent of alcohol across his body seemed to intensify. With a hook, he looped about his ribs and dragged him back up, and kissed his lips. Qu Fongning still had some residue of his cum in his mouth, and with the push of the saliva from his tongue, he almost swallowed it. Yujien’s voice still held the ecstasy from the climax, extremely hoarse, and it said, “Can’t eat anymore? Different lips then, feed you full.” He suddenly slammed him to the ground and tore off his underwear with a yank.

He had just ejaculated, but his virile member was showing no sign of fatigue, and was fiery hard, pressing tight behind his rear. Qu Fongning knew his intent, was terribly frightened, but could not break free.

Yujien firmly held his body, his rough hand stroking his lower abdomen. “Ningning, make a child with me, okay? It won’t hurt, I’ll be gentle… lift your ass,” he coaxed in a coo. The soft meaty flesh rubbed at his rear, pushing into his backdoor.

The opening widened, and Qu Fongning felt a dry cracking pain throbbing all the way to the small of his back, and struggled desperately. “Not okay!”

“Just make one. It’ll be quick. Make a girl…” Yujien continued to coax, leaned in to kiss his face, and his tone dreamy, “who’ll grow up to be as pretty as you.”

Amorous words streamed ceaselessly from his lips, but his lower body was driving hard to open Qu Fongning’s rear, and completely without regard, he plunged forward. But his item was really too massive, and in Qu Fongning’s anxiety, his ass tightened, and for the time denied his wishes.

By now, his arrow was already fully arched on the string. With the good deed falling through, he became inordinately irritated. He extended his hand to spread his buttocks, pulling apart the pale pink fleshy entrance, and pounded fast without consideration. Qu Fongning’s bones were almost crushed from his rams. In his indignation, the tears rushed up his eyes once more, and he pushed at his arms with all his might. Yujien threw out an arm, almost smashing his carpus into pieces. “Still fussing!”

Qu Fongning suffered this excruciating pain, could bear no more, and cried out. Yujien heard the cry and his pupils dilated, regaining some frames of clarity. His sight fell on his unsightly battered thighs, and he froze.

Qu Fongning saw him stop and hastily pulled up his trousers, reeled a few paces, and watched him in alarm.

Yujien still hadn’t put it together and was almost mumbling to himself, “Angry?” He stretched out his arm, wanting to draw him back.

Qu Fongning had his back to him, kneading his wrist, and his tears fell uncontrollably, dribbling and trickling, looking very bit miserable.

Yujien appeared distressed. He reached to him and called in a low voice, “Fine, not making a child. Don’t cry, be good.” He put him in his arms, hugging him face-to-face, kissing his cheeks, lulling him.

Qu Fongning narrowly escaped, but his heart remained an unappeasable stormy sea: “They say people speak the truth after drinks; he truly wants to do me this way. All this time…. he has been holding himself back.”

Yujien found him silent, gently caressed his back, and lowered his head to kiss his ears. It was dim all around. Yujien cuddled him for some time, then his movements slowed, his head fell on his shoulders, and sounded a steady snoring.

Qu Fongning sat in the gloom for a while, signed faintly, held up his burly arm, and supported him into the sleeping quarters.

~

Getting wasted is refreshing, but the hangover is agonizing.

Yujien struggled open his lids and, dragging his heavy head, managed to sit up. A spread of silk sheets unrolled off his chest, and he turned to find someone at the side of the bed, his black uniform top taken off, left with only the white undershirt, with a half-wet cloth in his hand.

A torrent of warmth rushed his heart, and he opened his mouth, “Ningning, why are you sleeping on the floor?”

The flopped head stirred. Qu Fongning lifted his eyes hazily, his pupils took a long time to focus. “General.” And groggily, he gave a cold shudder.

“Why were your clothes taken off? Took care of me all night?” Yujien pulled him into the covers.

Qu Fongning regarded him briefly before nodding. “You retched on me.” He held up three fingers. “Three times.” The warmth dispersed the coldness from his body, and he made many successive sneezes.

Yujien enveloped him in his arms. “Why didn’t you sleep with me?” he chided.

“You told me not to sleep with you,” Qu Fongning mumbled in a buzz, rubbing his nose, and blinked at him mischievously. “And bid me to scram back to my yurt, said you can’t control yourself with me in your arms.”

Yujien found an indefinable mirth in his expression, probably due to the no lack of trouble from last night. “It’s rare for me to get drunk. I’ve troubled you last night.” He kissed his cheek. “I’ll send you a new set of clothes later.”

Qu Fongning threw his head back into his chest. “And take it off again later?”

Yujien chortled and lowered, wanting to kiss his lips, but halted. “The old boy hasn’t gargled.”

And they romped and smooched for a bit until the sky grew light. Qu Fongning got off to dress, found a wide tear on his trousers, and casually picked up and draped on one of Yujien’s black fur cloaks. He tied the strings beneath his throat and saw Yujien laying sideways on the bed, perusing him with great interest. “What?” he said, surprised.

Yujien lazily propped up one arm. “The perfect moment with the exquisite scenery, a pleasure to the heart and a joy to the eyes,” he said.

Qu Fongning dart him a look, grabbed the mask, kicked the boots, and ran just like the pleasure to the heart and the joy to the eyes.

~

Li Ignis Division, Spring Sun Battalion, the ninth unit was infamous in the Ghost Army.

Day, the gale cut like ice. Hundreds of soldiers wrapped in pelts sat or stood, warming themselves by the fire, and chatted with ease, entirely disregarding the young and pretty new captain.

On the morning practice roll call, seventeen people didn’t show up; some either said they had a headache, or said their ewe was giving birth, and there were even unexplained ones that no one knew where they were.

On the weighted dashes, more than half didn’t wear their weights, and countless returned only half-way.

On the golden banners array drills, five or six out of ten claimed they had eye problems, frailties, back ulcers, or backaches, sloppy and distracted, and paid no heed to the signal banners.

At the Shen time formation review, Spring Sun Battalion took home the worst form, the worst discipline, and the most absences. It even affected the rest of the Li Ignis Division to suffer along. And then and there were people directing insults to Qu Fongning, and Gerrgu almost started a fight outright.

Qu Fongning plodded back to the commander’s ger, frosty and wilted, burrowed his face in the black cloak, and huddled into a ball of gloom by the fire. He watched Yujien’s entry and immediately shot him a vicious glare. “Gave me such an elite unit! How caring of you!”

“What did this humble army do to you this time?” Yujien received him with ease.

“And you say!” Qu Fongning wriggled like a caterpillar relieving its husk. “Every one of them is as slick as grease! Almost refined enough to be human wax sticks! Speak nice they grin, speak rough they grin; they hear nothing you say and run as soon as you hit them! Pissing me mad! I ain’t gonna be this captain for you anymore! Swap me a better one!”

“The old boy’s toiling great pains for your good, how come you kiddo cannot recognize the hard thought intentions?” Yujien chuckled. “If you inherit a pack of tiger and wolves, you can only go up and never down; only forward and never back. If you leap a thousand li, it’s all thanks to other’s pruning; make the slightest mistake, and you’ll surely be mocked for incompetence. Now looking again at your honored unit, already standing on the edge of the precipice, with nowhere to back but up. If you can make the crude wood into a pillar and turn the rock into true gold, there you can show your true abilities, Captain Qu.”

Qu Fongning completely ignored his painstaking intentions, and whined to himself, “What ability! I’m the dog biting the spinning top, with nowhere to bite!”

“Who talks about themselves like this?” Yujien was cracked-up, dying of laughter, and nipped his jaw up for a thorough scrutiny. “What breed is it, grown all nice and proper!”

Qu Fongning finally reacted and pounded him two hard knocks. “And you kiss the dog! And sleep with the dog!”

Yujien chortled beside himself and smacked two kisses on his head. “I see this Spring Sun Battalion really needs a crackdown! My Ningning has only gone for a day and already learned this oily tongue and slippy tone!”

Qu Fongning was disagreeable again, nagged for the good-half-of-a-day like a sugar twist, and finally pestered Yujien into telling him the art of military leadership. These theories were indescribably abstruse, and he understood less than one out of a tenth of such, and soon started to snooze. Yujien liked this groggy state of his the best and coaxed into his ear on purpose. “Doesn’t Captain Qu have a skilled hand in winning hearts, why come to me for methods? How could a couple of hopeless soldiers from this humble army be more difficult than those unruly outlaws?”

Just as he had wanted, a minute pluck turned up on Qu Fongning’s brows. “That doesn’t count… I saved him, and he is to spend his life to repay it. Uighshön was… going to eat me.”

Yujien kissed his steamy hot earlobe, breathing all the more into his ear canals. “What about before? How did you win your brothers?”

“I’m pretty!” Qu Fongning said smugly, waving his hand as if swatting flies.

“I see you got a thick face!” Chuckling, Yujien patted him a spank.

Qu Fongning had drooped his lids asway, and was still slurring his rebuff: “And you wanted me to make a child with you…”

Yujien stilled. “When did I say that?”

Qu Fongning giggled and pouted his lips, demanding kisses. Yujien lowered for a kiss, and gleaned the faint murmur from his lips: “Can’t make one, don’t you think about it anymore…” And he didn’t want his kiss anymore, shrunk into his arms, and mumbled in an almost inaudible tone, “Not I don’t want to, it’s I… can’t.” For the last two words, he merely shifted his lips and fell sound asleep.

These five words, Not I don’t want to, were as faint as flies, but their effect compared to the thunder of the ninth sky. A blast of heat sizzled across Yujien and seeped into the marrows of his bones, and even the charcoal flames felt nothing in comparison. He regarded him for length, before finally carrying him onto the bed.

Oyghrmuki had sneakily reserved a jar of green wine, and was in the side yurt, humming a little tune and cooking up a braise, preparing a mighty feast. He heard the click of army boots and bobbed his head out for a shock. “General, where are you going this late?”

Yujien, eyes cold, snapped the horsewhip in his hand to a crackle.

“Li Ignis Division, Spring Sun Battalion.”

~

The steppes’ harsh cold yet to abate, there stayed the frozen earth, sere grass, and frosty blades. Only the forge fires of the smithing camps remained perpetually lit, and Rosürr’s round face illuminated red and bright every day.

This fire was especially warm, even affecting the story someone was telling by the forge to be extraordinarily moving.

They told a story about a fox:

A fox spirit, Iben, had a mother. Yet because of a great misfortune, when its mother had just cultivated into a human form, before she could do any evil, a powerful Taoist sealed her away. Deeply grieved, the fox keened before its mother’s grave for three days and three nights, and suddenly gained a great power, becoming as lush as the trees and flora, and as one as the heaven and the earth—Perhaps the one who made up the story also felt a pity for the child who lost its mother. Plotting vengeance, the fox spirit transformed into a cute chubby boy, and feigning an appearance of adorable sorriness, tactfully came before the Taoist and begged to be taken in as a disciple. The Taoist kindly accepted, and hence the fox served by his side, seeking for revenge.

Rosürr only listened to the brief and thought: So, it’s a story about revenge.

Though the fox had powers, the Taoist’s cultivation was fathomless. For a day and a moon in the cavern, the world had already passed a thousand years. And unwittingly, a thousand winters and summers had passed, and the fox still couldn’t take the strike —

In the end, it didn’t know whether it was because it lacked the power, or could not bear to.

The years of time and care made it love him.

The Taoist cleared a virgin soil with his own hands and planted a field of wheat. But in autumn, all was for naught, for the field was full of puppy tail flowers³.

Before he discovered the secret of the puppy tail flowers, every dawn to dusk, singing the ballads, he marched out with his white flocks and plain socks, went shouldering the hoe, and returned dipped with dew.

The autumns went and winters came; he gained not a single grain. And that furry fluff, the wilting flora, became an unspeakable secret in the fox’s heart.

Rosürr silently brooded: the person spreading this story must be full of ill will.

Just as the story wrapped up, he heard a chloris leaf whistle from the outside. His limbs instantly flopped, and he swiftly ran away.

When he came galloping breathlessly before the bank of white rocks, he saw the person at once. His mouth dangling the chloris leaf, he was squatting in idleness, smashing bugs with his mask for fun. He saw him come and was in no hurry to speak, only first looked behind his back. “Where’d the tail go?”

Rosürr couldn’t even say how long it was since he last saw him, and could only grin at him idiotically, completely overlooking his nickname.

Qu Fongning stretched out an arm to measure to the top of his head, and sounded bitter, “What did you eat to grow so tall?”

Rosürr remembered the bag of awfully nasty goat’s milk and asked after it. Qu Fongning expressed his astonishment at his memory and said, “I haven’t drunk that in a long time.” After sitting down, he added in sorrow, “I probably won’t grow anymore.”

Rosürr was full of guilt and knocked hard for words in his head, until he spat out a gloat, “In any way, my legs are longer than yours!” And he dispersed the notion to console him.

Thus, the two boys had nothing else to say, and sat on the white rock, watching the passing of the wind.

Qu Fongning was draped with a huge black cloak, which didn’t look like his. This gown was especially warm. When the winds rose, he shared a half over, even warming up Rosürr’s face.

One of his tall riding boots was rolled down, revealing a slender ankle. Rosürr glimpsed the little gold bells and carefully started, “I heard you’re a junior officer at the Ghost Army now. You still have to wear this?”

Qu Fongning gave the ankle a shake, his eyes somewhat suggestive. “Someone likes to see.”

He didn’t say who, and Rosürr dared not guess. “I heard your unit is very difficult. It is hard for you to manage?” he asked quietly.

“Not so unheeding anymore.” Qu Fongning made a slicing gesture.

Rosürr was going to open his mouth again, but Qu Fongning leaned into his ear and took a little bite. “You heard, you heard, where did you hear so much from? Hear me out.”

Rosürr entirely stiffened into a tightened bow. All the blood in his body rushed up to his cheeks, reddening enough to drip.

Qu Fongning shoved him a stack of drawings, peeled open his palm, slapped them in, and curled it up. “Nineteen total, make them for me.”

“Yes,” Rosürr answered stupidly and determinedly.

What was drawn on the plans? Was it possible to do? For these he didn’t have to ask, and the other did not need to say.

“When you make them out, I’ll send you to a good place,” said Qu Fongning, and made a gesture. “—the Western Army Armory Corps, make you a Corp Master.”

Rosürr’s eyes sparked bright and soon spiraled dim.

“What, unhappy?” Qu Fongning knocked him with a half-smile.

“Happy,” said Rosürr, dejectedly.

In order to prove his happiness, he even told him, albeit stuttering, the story of the little fox.

Before Qu Fongning heard a half, he didn’t want to hear the rest.

“If there is such a deep hatred, how can they be truly in love? This fox enthralls itself in its enemy’s arms and forgets the vengeance for the murder of its mother. It’s not fit to be a son.”

After a moment’s silence, he gave a faint smile. “I’m guessing the story ends with the fox bides its time and at last succeeds in the strike, scattering the Taoist’s celestial spirit, destroying his inner core, and driving him down to the eighteenth level of nether hell, and never gaining salvation for eternity. Am I right?”

Rosürr reflected on the ending he just heard:

—In the fox’s torpor, it woke up. All this discord of love and hate was nothing but a dream.

Its shiny coated mother was still peacefully asleep by its side. Its body was basking under the sun in the cavern. The weather was good, the flora sweet, and nothing ever changed.

There was never a Taoist.

The fox came out of the cave and found a long tuft of puppy tail flowers, and the morning dew moistened its tail extra fluffy.

The fox plucked the puppy tail flower and gently donned it atop its ear.

The vast forest was empty of man.

… Somehow, Rosürr felt he for sure wouldn’t like this ending. So, he sealed his lips tight, and pushed the black cloak back a little.

Qu Fongning was well cared for, and reclined onto him sleepily, dozing off again.

Between here and there of sleep, he mumbled, “Rosürr, sing me a song!”

And Rosürr sang a part of the Mei waters lullaby:

I passed by the Mei waters,

The Mei waters wanted to keep me.

The gold threaded boots became wet,

The boats carrying suze flowers overturned,

Princess Nüsha’s green handkerchief was sodded with tears under the moon,

—It could not keep me!

I passed by the Mei waters,

The nomads wanted to keep me.

The men cut off their heads,

The women exposed their breasts,

And maidens offered virtues more beautiful than flowers,

—It could not keep me!

…

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