In the study of the Liangzhou Provincial Governor's mansion, charcoal braziers cast a warm glow against the winter chill, their smoke curling lazily through the air. Upon the massive nanmu wood desk—its surface inlaid with threads of gold that caught the firelight—lay a letter bearing the ominous red wax seal of the Ministry of War and marked with a single, stark word: "Confidential."
The letter had arrived by express courier less than an hour ago, its contents now spread bare before three figures gathered in the amber-lit room. Duan Xu made no attempt to conceal the document from his trusted companions; indeed, he seemed to invite their scrutiny of what could only be described as a death sentence wrapped in official parchment.
Meng Wan's knuckles whitened as her fists clenched at her sides, her voice rough with barely contained fury. "This is unconscionable! They're sending you to your death!"
Behind his desk, Duan Xu displayed his characteristic gesture of deep contemplation—fingers interlacing and separating in a measured rhythm, as if working through the intricate pieces of an impossible puzzle.
The silence stretched taut as a bowstring before he finally lifted his gaze. "Commander Qin's strategic reasoning cannot be faulted," he said with the calm precision of a scholar discussing philosophy rather than his own potential demise. "Liangzhou has been reclaimed, yes, but the greater prize of Yuzhou remains firmly in Danzhi hands. Beyond Yuzhou lie the southern plains—should they fall, Great Liang would stand defenseless before the advancing tide."
He traced a deliberate path across the map with his index finger, each movement calculated and sure. "The Hu Qi forces understand this as clearly as we do. If they secure Yuzhou, their path to the Southern Capital lies wide open. This is why the battle there has reached such a bloody stalemate—both sides know it represents the fulcrum upon which our nation's fate balances."
Duan Xu's finger moved to another section of the map, indicating the precarious supply routes. "The Danzhi conduct a campaign far from their homeland and fear nothing more than protracted warfare. Six critical cities in Yuzhou remain under Great Liang's control, their elite forces proving too formidable for swift conquest. Unable to break this deadlock quickly, Danzhi will inevitably commit reinforcements—and having lost Liangzhou, they possess only one viable route for such support."
His hand swept to the rear positions behind Yuzhou, then traced the serpentine course of the Guan River.
"But the approaches to Yuzhou's rear bristle with Danzhi defenders. They anticipate our attempt to sever their reinforcement corridor and stand prepared to fight with the desperation of cornered wolves. The Taibai Army's eighty thousand cannot absorb such catastrophic losses and hope to survive. To preserve Yuzhou, we must pursue a different path entirely..."
Now his hand moved to Liangzhou's position, settling on the critical Guan River crossing. "We cross the Guan River under winter's protection, circle wide to capture Shuozhou—the cornerstone of Danzhi's northern strongholds—and sever the Hu Qi's north-south passage along the river. When spring arrives and the ice breaks, Danzhi will find themselves strategically crippled, unable to alter the campaign's outcome."
Meng Wan's bitter laughter carried the edge of hysteria. "Brilliant strategy indeed—so effortlessly conceived from the comfort of a war council! Let us ignore, for the moment, that when spring's thaw comes, we'll be stranded in Shuozhou like pieces abandoned on a go board. Consider instead the 'simple' matter of crossing a frozen river to assault a fortified Danzhi position. How remarkably straightforward Commander Qin makes it sound!"
Her voice rose with each word, years of military discipline cracking under the weight of injustice. "When has Qin Huanda ever taken the offensive against Danzhi forces? He maintains his precious defensive positions, content to let others bleed for victory. Why not deploy his own Suying and Shengjie armies for such a crucial mission? Those are his personal troops, after all!"
Meng Wan's eyes blazed with unshed tears of rage as she struck the desk with her fist. "He's Duke Pei's brother-in-law, and you represent everything he despises about merit-based advancement. This isn't strategy—it's assassination by proxy! Even in our nation's darkest hour, these parasites cannot abandon their schemes to eliminate rivals!"
Years among soldiers had taught the general's daughter a vocabulary her tutors would have found appalling, though her current restraint showed remarkable self-control.
Yet Duan Xu's expression remained serene, untouched by her fury. If anything, his features lightened, a genuine smile replacing his previous gravity—the transformation so striking that both companions stared in amazement.
"Commander Qin holds the rank of Grand Marshal over all imperial forces," he said with maddening equanimity. "Military orders brook no argument, regardless of personal feelings. If Great Liang requires a sacrifice to ensure her survival, who are we to debate the selection? That Commander Qin considers me worthy of such a mission—should I not feel honored by his confidence?"
Meng Wan gazed at him with a mixture of pity and exasperation that spoke of years spent witnessing this same inexplicable optimism. The Meng and Duan families had maintained their alliance across generations, yet she had never fathomed how anyone could possess such a temperament—transforming poison into medicine, finding silver linings in the darkest storm clouds.
Rising from his chair, Duan Xu revealed the full extent of his imposing height and elegant bearing. His handsome features, illuminated by genuine warmth, truly embodied the classical description of "bright eyes and white teeth"—radiating an openness that seemed to invite the world's trust.
He moved to stand before his desk, turning his attention to the figure who had remained conspicuously silent throughout the exchange. Xia Qing Sheng, like Meng Wan, had followed him from the Imperial Guard in the Southern Capital. Typically a man of few words, he now bore an expression of such profound gravity that it bordered on mourning.
"Qing Sheng," Duan Xu said gently. "What troubles you?"
The response came like a dam bursting. Xia Qing Sheng dropped to his knees in a single fluid motion, pressing his forehead to the floor in the deepest gesture of contrition.
"I have brought catastrophe upon the General," he declared, his voice thick with self-recrimination. "Had I not required your intervention to save my sister, you would never have crossed Young Master Fan, never faced Lord Fang's impeachment, never arrived at this moment of mortal peril."
When he raised his eyes, they burned with a combination of guilt and unwavering determination. "Whatever path the General chooses, I pledge to follow unto death itself!"
Duan Xu observed his kneeling subordinate, then glanced at Meng Wan's furious countenance, and suddenly burst into hearty laughter—a sound so incongruous with the moment's gravity that both companions could only stare in bewilderment.
Laughter had always come easily to Duan Xu. In all her years of acquaintance, Meng Wan had never witnessed him display genuine worry or despair. Even so, his ability to find amusement in their current circumstances defied comprehension.
Reaching down to help Xia Qing Sheng to his feet, Duan Xu addressed them both with the air of someone discussing pleasant weekend plans rather than a suicide mission.
"What's this melodramatic atmosphere? Why do you both look as though you're preparing for noble martyrdom? Have you so little faith in my chances of success?"
He paused, his expression becoming more serious though no less confident. "I'm sharing this information with you both now, but breathe not a word to anyone else. Qing Sheng, instruct Lieutenant General Wu to meet me at the Governor's mansion in two hours. Meng Wan, you'll accompany me—we have business to attend to."
Duan Xu clasped Xia Qing Sheng's shoulder in a gesture of reassurance, his smile suggesting he viewed their dire circumstances as merely another interesting challenge. Having delivered his instructions, he strode from the study with the easy confidence of a man heading to a pleasant social engagement.
True to his habits from the Southern Capital, he eschewed the typical retinue of guards even here on the frontier. Only Meng Wan accompanied him as he emerged onto streets that still bore the scars of recent battle—bloodstains dark against winter-pale stone, buildings pockmarked with the evidence of Liangzhou's violent recapture.
They walked in contemplative silence until Duan Xu turned toward the modest residence adjacent to the Governor's mansion, where an unusual scene awaited them.
A young woman sat gracefully upon the stone steps, creating a picture of domestic tranquility amid the war-torn cityscape. Her moon-white padded jacket was complemented by a lotus-pink cloak, its white fur collar framing her face like fresh snow. Her features possessed a natural sweetness—skin like porcelain touched with rose petals, the very image of youth and innocence.
In her delicate hands she held an intricately crafted sugar figurine, while beside her sat a boy in blue clothing, clutching a similar confection. Around them, a circle of children aged seven and eight had gathered on the ground, their faces upturned with rapt attention as they hung on every word of the story being woven for their entertainment.
The sight immediately rekindled Meng Wan's irritation. "General, these past days you've assigned me to oversee her needs. She's demanded a house, food, clothing—I've provided everything without question. Now she lives like some pampered merchant's daughter while we face genuine crises. How much longer will you indulge this... arrangement?"
Duan Xu's tone remained conversationally light. "Didn't you suggest she might be one of Duke Pei's agents, positioned to approach me with malicious intent? She's requested material comforts but made no attempt on my life—surely that argues in her favor? But let's set aside such speculation for now. How have your interactions with her progressed?"
Meng Wan bit back her frustration and delivered her report with military precision. "She claims to be without family connections, caring for Xue Chen Ying out of gratitude to the boy's deceased father. However, my inquiries throughout Liangzhou have yielded no one who recognizes her, nor anyone who recalls Xue Chen Ying's father mentioning such a benefactor."
Her voice took on a note of grudging admiration mixed with suspicion. "I've tested her weather predictions daily, and she's proven accurate to an almost supernatural degree—precise not only in timing but in wind direction and intensity. Nevertheless, General, I maintain that this person cannot be trusted."
Duan Xu neither confirmed nor disputed her assessment, offering only a neutral "I understand."
As they drew closer to the gathered audience, He Xiaoxiao's clear voice reached them, spinning tales with the skill of a practiced storyteller.
"The evil spirit appeared beautiful as spring flowers and precious jade, but her eyes held the darkness of moonless nights. She carried a great jar that wept tears of blood, and as she revealed her true nature, fangs descended like ivory daggers while claws emerged sharp as winter frost, her mouth opening wide to reveal the abyss within..."
He Simu raised her hands in a theatrical display of menace, causing her young audience to cry out in delighted terror. Her expression immediately softened into laughter, and the children who had scattered in mock fear came creeping back for more.
A small girl with elaborately braided hair trembled with delicious fright. "Big sister, do such spirits truly exist? Are they really so frightening?"
"Indeed they do. Chen Ying and I nearly became their feast! Should you ever encounter strange individuals, particularly those with eyes black as winter nights—utterly without whites—you must flee immediately." He Simu pressed a hand to her chest with convincing distress. "I remain terrified of such creatures. Sleep has abandoned me for nights on end, bringing only nightmares! I've heard that those consumed by evil spirits suffer misfortune across several lifetimes, and may never again taste the sweetness of sugar!"
The children's eyes widened with genuine alarm at this most dire consequence.
"Surely there must be something that frightens even evil spirits?" asked a plump boy, perhaps calculating his chances of outrunning supernatural pursuit.
"Perhaps there is. My father once told me they fear blessed artifacts, protective talismans, and..." He Simu paused thoughtfully, "their sovereign—the Ghost King."
The blue-clothed boy beside her exclaimed with fascination, "Ghost King? Spirits have royalty, like our Emperor?"
"Something akin to that. I know only what my father shared with me. Alone among their kind, the Ghost King can create offspring with mortals. Such children are born as powerful spirits, far exceeding ordinary demons in strength, and typically inherit their parent's throne..."
He Simu was thus educating her audience in the mysteries of the spirit realm—mysteries that were, in truth, her own heritage—when she glanced up to discover Duan Xu standing beyond the circle of children, observing her with an enigmatic smile.
He wore simple civilian robes today: a round-collared garment decorated with victory knot patterns, his hair bound in a topknot secured with gray silk ribbons. The winter sunshine bathed him in golden light, and his clear eyes reflected her image with startling clarity.
He Simu remembered Feng Yi mentioning that Duan Xu had seen only nineteen winters—truly the most luminous season of youth.
Her face brightened with genuine pleasure as she rose and offered a graceful bow. "General."
Duan Xu returned the courtesy with equal formality. "Miss He displays remarkable knowledge and experience. I find myself impressed."
Modesty colored He Simu's response as she lowered her gaze. "Merely tales heard in passing, nothing more."
After dismissing Chen Ying and the other children with gentle words, she turned to face Duan Xu directly, meeting his eyes without flinching—a boldness that spoke of either innocence or supreme confidence.
"General, how may I serve you?"
Duan Xu's approach was refreshingly direct. "I've heard that Miss He possesses an extraordinary gift for weather divination."
"This humble girl was born with clearer sight than most, able to interpret the language of winds and clouds. It amounts to little more than a parlor trick."
"Would you consent to serve as wind diviner for my Taibai Army?"
In military campaigns, success depended upon the trinity of timing, terrain, and human resources. A wind diviner's role was to unlock the secrets of the first element, reading heaven's intentions in the dance of air and moisture.
He Simu's surprise was evident, though quickly masked. Given Meng Wan's obvious suspicions and the natural caution such wariness should inspire, why would this young general suddenly extend such crucial trust to a woman of mysterious origins?
For the moment, she adopted an expression of humble gratitude. "If I might serve at the General's side, contributing to Great Liang's cause, I would consider refusal the height of selfishness. What would you have me do?"
Ignoring Meng Wan's expression of mounting alarm, Duan Xu posed his critical question. "Can you determine which night in the coming period will bring an eastern wind? The stronger the better, and ideally accompanied by snow."
Night. Eastern wind. Snow.
He Simu paused, and for just an instant, her features reflected something approaching compassion—as if she could divine not only weather patterns but the dark purpose behind his inquiry. The expression vanished almost before it appeared, replaced by her customary brightness.
"The terrain here sits low among buildings that disrupt wind patterns. If the General would permit it, might you escort me to the city walls for proper observation?"
This request finally shattered Meng Wan's restraint. She had been mystified by Duan Xu's decision to consult a woman of unknown provenance, but this latest development ignited her fury.
"The city walls house our defensive arrangements and represent a restricted military zone. What makes you believe you can demand access at your convenience?"
"What makes me believe it?" He Simu's smile carried the innocence of spring flowers. "Am I not the newly appointed wind diviner for the Taibai Army, Commander Meng?"
"You—!"
Duan Xu raised a hand to forestall Meng Wan's advance, studying He Simu with an expression that seemed to weigh her very soul. After a moment that stretched like eternity, he smiled and nodded with decision.
"Very well. I shall escort you to the walls myself."
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