The great powers of the world rise and fall, unite and divide; seas shift into mulberry fields. Now, the thirty-six states are split by the Guan River, with north and south locked in opposition. To the south lies the Great Liang Dynasty, the orthodox Han regime. To the north, the Dan Zhi Nation, founded by the nomadic Hu Qi people.
Tragically, the seventeen states north of the Guan River had once been the very heartland of the Han, their landscapes immortalized in countless poems. But decades ago, that land was seized, and the Hu Qi claimed it as their own.
Liang’s soldiers could never rival the Hu Qi in raw combat might, yet the Guan River served as a natural barrier, while Hu Qi’s weakness at naval warfare kept both sides in uneasy peace. But this year, fate conspired against Liang. For the first time in a century, the turbulent Guan River froze solid. The Hu Qi rejoiced, crossing the frozen expanse as though it were level ground.
In ten days, Liang Prefecture City and its ten surrounding counties fell. Ten days more, and half of Yu State was swallowed, their army pressing south toward the capital.
But such upheavals were nothing new to He Simu, an evil ghost over four centuries old. She had witnessed peace and chaos turn like the seasons. To her, whether the world thrived or bled mattered little. Her interest in military affairs came from a far simpler reason: she was a picky eater.
He Simu consumed only those at death’s threshold—not those wasting from illness. That left her with few options, and so battlefields became her banquets.
Where blood was spilled, she went eagerly.
When Hu Qi’s armies stormed south, she was occupied with other matters. By the time she resurfaced, their advance had been checked. Great Liang ambushed them in Liang State, crushing them before they could merge with their Dan Zhi allies. Beaten back, the Hu Qi retreated north across the Guan River.
But not without leaving scars. In their retreat, they massacred Liang Prefecture City. Half its civilians died beneath their blades—the carnage He Simu had stumbled upon earlier.
Now, with her chin propped in her hand, she idly spun a jade pendant between her fingers, waiting for the little one on the bed to stir.
The Governor of Liang Prefecture had perished, leaving his mansion abandoned. The young general had taken temporary residence there. The body He Simu now possessed had fainted during the chaos and was placed in a courtyard of the mansion. A full day had passed before she stirred again.
The general had been attentive. Following her instructions before fainting, he rescued the child from the corpses and laid him in the same courtyard. Yet, despite his rest and lack of serious injury, the boy had not woken.
Two sharp knocks sounded. Before He Simu could respond, the door swung open and in strode an impatient figure.
A female warrior entered—armor gleaming, her hair tied high with a strip of purple cloth. Her features were sharp, carrying a bold, masculine air. She set down a food box with practiced indifference, her voice flat.
“Awake? The physician examined you. You and your brother are merely exhausted. Once he wakes, you should leave the mansion.”
Leave? He Simu had yet to unravel the intrigue around the young general. She wasn’t about to walk away from a newfound amusement.
She reached for the warrior’s hand, her expression softening into girlish admiration. “Sister, how valiant you are! A woman serving as a commander—I truly admire you. Might I know your name?”
The warrior glanced down at her. Her phoenix eyes, sharp and cutting, held little warmth. “Meng Wan,” she answered curtly.
She asked for nothing in return, her coldness clear in the flickering lamplight.
But He Simu wasn’t done. Still gripping her sleeve, she smiled sweetly. “Pleased to meet you, Sister Meng. My brother and I are weak—might we rest here a few more days? Could you ask the general to grant us this kindness? Oh, and what is the name of the general who saved us?”
Meng Wan’s gaze narrowed to a blade. Slowly, she lowered her head until their eyes met, as if she could strip He Simu bare with her stare. He Simu only smiled back, unflinching.
“You’re not right,” Meng Wan said.
“Oh? What’s not right about me?”
“Everything. Liang City was slaughtered, your brother lies unconscious, yet you show no fear.”
He Simu tilted her head, her tone leisurely. “And how does Sister Meng know I’m not afraid? This is just how I look when I’m terrified. Besides, having survived the massacre, and with the general descending like a heavenly deity, shouldn’t I feel safe?”
Meng Wan’s grip tightened on her wrist. Her voice grew low. “My instincts have never failed me. You’re no good person. Why are you trying to approach our general? Are you…”
He Simu’s smile deepened, her eyes glimmering.
“…Are you Prince Pei’s spy?”
He Simu blinked, then laughed. “Prince? Sister, what are you saying? I’ve never even heard of him.”
For once, she spoke the truth. The nobles of the human world were irrelevant to her.
But Meng Wan wasn’t convinced. She dropped He Simu’s wrist, her voice harsh. “Abandon your schemes. Do you know our young master’s background? His sincerity, his lack of defenses, have already been taken advantage of by people like you! This is no court, but a battlefield. Even if it costs me my life, I won’t let you harm a single hair on him!”
Her righteous fury left He Simu momentarily speechless—as though someone had hung a black pot around her neck.
Still, Meng Wan’s words recalled the handkerchief that had once been offered to her. Neat, slender fingers scarred from battle—hands that seemed made for a brush, not a sword.
Clearly, this young general had suffered.
But before He Simu could pry further, a loud rumble cut through the tension. Both women turned.
The boy on the bed was awake, his wide eyes fixed on the food box.
Xue Chen Ying had slept a day and a night, only to be roused by hunger.
Soon, he was wolfing down food while He Simu teased, “Eat slowly. No one will steal from you. You said your name was…?”
“Xue… Chen Ying…” he mumbled through mouthfuls.
“Then Chen Ying it is,” she smiled.
The child paused briefly. “Sister, who are you? Where is my father?”
He Simu hesitated, unwilling to spoil his appetite. “I’m He Xiaoxiao. As for your father, eat first, then we’ll talk.”
The boy nodded and buried his face back into the food. His only kin seemed to be food itself.
Once full, he looked up, blinking earnestly. “Thank you, Miss Xiaoxiao. Where is my father?”
He Simu studied him—the coarse, patched clothes, likely sewn by his father’s hand. A boy poor, thin, and scarred by loss, yet still endearingly round-faced, round-eyed.
“Besides your father, do you have any other family?” she asked gently.
Chen Ying shook his head. “Most are gone. Only my father and me.”
Her temples throbbed. His soul flames were whole, yet his luck was as bleak as if one were missing.
“Do you remember what happened before you fainted?”
The boy’s face paled. He clutched her hand, his voice trembling. “Bad people… killing… My father… stabbed in the stomach… so much blood…”
Finally, the memory surfaced.
He Simu’s voice was calm, firm. “Your father is dead. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to bury him.”
The words struck like a blade. His eyes widened, tears falling in confused streams. “No… no, maybe… maybe he can come back? Once he cut his leg badly, bled a lot, but the doctor healed him! My mother used to say small wounds don’t matter! Everyone gets hurt sometimes…”
His words tumbled out desperately, as though he could argue his father back to life. But slowly, his sobs wore him down.
At last, his voice rasped: “My father said… people can’t come back once they’re dead. Is that true?”
He Simu nodded. “It’s true.”
The boy’s tears stilled. His eyes grew hollow, lost.
“Then who are you, Sister?”
“Your father showed me kindness. Since you have no kin, I’ll watch over you for now. Later, I’ll entrust you to a good family.”
Chen Ying nodded faintly. Then, with a soft voice, he added: “My father said I cry too much… not like a man.”
He Simu reached out, patting his head gently. “When my parents died, I cried louder than anyone. If I could have cried more, I would have. Compared to me, you’re already far braver.”
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