The journey, which began in the nascent warmth of early spring, had been a relentless march. Now, the sudden return of a raw chill air had slowed their progress, but only now, after weeks of travel, did they finally sense the end: Liangzhou was almost upon them.
The previous day's thunder had been no deterrent; in fact, the team had pressed on, the rhythm of their haste growing more frantic with every passing mile. The leader, his spirits clearly rising as they approached their destination, had urged the pace. The closer they got to Liangzhou, the less he muttered and the more he joked.
"The thunder wasn't for us," he guffawed, his voice thick with cheer, "It was God himself, seeing that Liangzhou was about to be blessed with a marriage, and joining in the fun! Clearly, a match made in heaven!" He didn't miss a beat, turning the jest onto the only man who wasn't joining in. "Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Feng?"
A sound like scraping metal answered him—a heavy, cold snort that echoed from the rear of the column, the presumed position of the aloof Feng Wuji.
The man's boisterous voice was an irritant to Shunyin, who sat enclosed within her carriage. She glanced at the window, then reached for a palm-width, folded book tucked into a green brocade bundle beside her. Reading was the only occupation that softened the endless road.
Yet, her mind was restless, the words on the page failing to hold her. When a soft, lukewarm hint of sunlight filtered through the panes, marking a moment well past noon, Shunyin closed the notebook. She turned to the window and simply said, "Stop for a moment."
This was her first request in all the days of travel. A keen-witted maid on horseback immediately rode close. "Madam, would you like water, or a rest?"
"Neither," Shunyin replied. "There should be a Ten-Li Pavilion nearby. Let's stop there."
The captain, overhearing, scoffed and interrupted. "Madam, have you been here before? How do you know of a Ten-Li Pavilion?"
"I saw it mentioned in a travelogue," she answered calmly. "I haven't seen it myself."
"Then you must be mistaken," the captain dismissed her, swelling with his own authority. "When I last went to Chang'an, there was no Ten-Li Pavilion on this road! Unless," he paused, trying to find a clever jab, "it was a typo."
"Perhaps," Shunyin returned smoothly. "Perhaps it was."
The captain stared back at the carriage, perplexed, wondering how the woman could be so sure of her memory. How could a mere typo lead to such certainty? An attendant quickly rode up and whispered the truth: There was a Ten-Li Pavilion, but the official road had been rerouted long ago; it stood now on the mountain-facing, less-traveled side.
Stung by the unexpected correction, the captain glared at his attendant, coughed dryly, and waved his hand in a gesture of reluctant surrender. "We'll listen to the wife! Stop the carriage!"
The team dutifully diverted, pulling to a halt near the old, slightly dilapidated pavilion. As soon as they stopped, Shunyin lifted the bamboo curtain and leaned out.
A maid rushed to place a cushion on the ground, and Shunyin stepped out. She adjusted her veil and walked to the rear. As she had expected, Feng Wuji, the sole escort, lagged far behind. He was riding slower and slower, a man clearly reluctant to take another step toward his sister's destiny. Seeing Shunyin approach, he squeezed his horse's flank and trotted to meet her.
Shunyin stopped before his horse. "It's time to say goodbye."
The captain, upon hearing the words of dismissal for the irritating Feng Wuji, was overjoyed. He loudly ordered his men to dismount and prepare for a quick farewell. He wanted the cold-faced youth gone before anyone got the wrong idea.
Feng Wuji dismounted and offered Shunyin a stiff, reluctant nod. He couldn't accompany her to Liangzhou; he had to rush to take up his new military post in Qinzhou. The Emperor, wishing to dignify Shunyin's marriage, had not only bestowed a dowry but also secured Feng Wuji an official military position. Though the rank was low and the location remote, it was a sudden lifeline—before this, the once-great Feng family had no hope of official office.
"Why so grim?" Shunyin asked. "The Feng family lost everything, yet now we have a chance to turn things around. We should be thankful."
Feng Wuji scowled. "But no matter how I look at it, it seems like you've traded your future for mine."
"How do you know it wasn't my own choice?"
He was stunned into silence.
Shunyin’s voice lowered to a calm whisper. "I've been tired of being trapped in Chang'an for a long time." He searched his memory for a rebuttal, but found little joy in her recent years in the capital. He could find no words.
Glancing at the captain, who was now strolling boredly in the distance, Shunyin turned back to her brother, her voice dropping lower still. "Before you leave, hear this: the current Sage prioritizes the border. If you go to Qinzhou and serve as his eyes and ears, observing the frontier on his behalf, you may seize the opportunity to revitalize the Feng family." She paused, her eyes steady. "I will help you."
Feng Wuji looked at her in surprise. He hadn't expected her to be thinking so far ahead—not of marriage, but of political strategy. He rushed closer, a sudden fear in his eyes. "You're not going to... Sister, I worry for your safety in Liangzhou. How can you help me? You're already..."
Shunyin's face was a mere suggestion beneath the veil of her hat. She gave a small, unconcerned smile. "It's okay. Don't worry about me. Just make sure you are safe."
Before he could say more, she raised a hand, signaling him to mount. "Go."
The captain's horses neighed impatiently in the distance. Feng Wuji had no choice. He mounted, his expression a turbulent mix of anger, sorrow, and reluctance. He suddenly tightened his grip on the reins. "Don't worry, sister. Qinzhou isn't far from Liangzhou. I'll find a chance to visit you. If I find out you haven't married well, I'll hold him accountable, even if he's the King of the World!"
With that furious, heartfelt promise, he wheeled his horse and galloped away, as if fearing that another word might break his resolve. Shunyin stood facing the wind, saying nothing, watching until his figure was lost in the cloud of flying dust. Then, she turned and walked back toward the carriage.
The captain, observing the dramatic departure from afar, had not heard their words. He only saw the young man tear away as though fleeing a funeral. Tsk, tsk, tsk... He stroked his beard, his round eyes fixed on Shunyin's graceful return. Her posture was delicate, pitiful even, yet the overall impression was one of cool indifference—as if nothing of consequence had just happened.
This new bride is strange, he thought. She'd been fetched from a remote Taoist temple. Her own mother hadn't come to see her off, and she hadn't cried or made a scene despite marrying so far away. Beyond the imperial dowry, her only personal luggage was that small brocade bundle containing clothes, paper, pens, and books. These high-ranking families—when they fall, they truly fall.
Shunyin re-entered the carriage. The horse, restless from its brief rest, kicked its hooves a few times. The notebook she'd been reading, improperly stowed, slid out and fell to the ground. The maid rushed to retrieve it.
"It's just a book!" the impatient captain yelled. "There are books in Liangzhou! No need to pick it up!"
Shunyin lifted the curtain. "Pick it up. My manuscript is in it."
The captain's voice became louder, surprise lacing his tone. "Oh, I didn't expect that Madam can write her own articles?"
Shunyin's face, barely discernible through the gauze, shifted slightly. "It's just to kill time. I heard you earlier when you answered my brother. You're very eloquent. I thought you were well-read."
The captain's grin vanished. He was trapped. She had clearly seen him teasing her brother and was now waiting for him. He coughed dryly, a man with a suddenly wounded pride.
The maid handed the book to Shunyin, who took it, lowered the curtain, and waited for the carriage to start. Once they were moving, she removed her veil and smoothed her wrinkled skirt. She opened her palms. Her knuckles were still white from how tightly she'd clenched her fingers during the farewell.
She closed her eyes, then opened them again, murmuring softly into the confined space, "It's okay. It's worth it..."
The irritated captain now drove the team relentlessly, constantly shouting, "Hurry up! Hurry up!" They traveled for three straight hours without stopping, refusing to waste a moment. In the northwest, the sun set late, and it was only as the final rays of light vanished behind the distant hills that the team finally halted.
Shunyin, who had kept her eyes closed for most of the journey, opened them. The wind outside had died down. Through the window, she could vaguely make out the massive, towering city wall ahead. She understood the captain's haste; he wanted to cross the pass today—the symbolic gateway to Liangzhou.
Sure enough, the captain's gruff voice bellowed from outside. "Madam, we've arrived at Huining Pass. Be careful once we're through. It's not the Central Plains here, and we're crowded and overwhelmed!" Shunyin, recognizing the deliberate jab, ignored him, surveying the intimidating wall and the shadowy figures of the guards above.
The captain turned and banged impatiently on the gate. "Where's the guard? Open up and let us in!"
"The pass is closed!" a guard shouted back from above. "Turn back, you'll pass tomorrow!"
"Who said to turn back? We've been ordered to go to a wedding!"
The guard's tone was equally sharp. "Whose bride are you escorting?"
Shunyin, listening to the echoing calls, figured the commander could no longer evade the question.
The next moment, the captain's voice boomed with forced authority: "Liangzhou's Military Commander!"
Shunyin raised an eyebrow. The Military Commander. No wonder the Governor had taken a personal interest. The commander held control over military and government affairs—a powerful figure second only to the Governor himself. She wondered again why she had been chosen.
The guards were still relentless: "Which Liangzhou Military Commander?"
The captain, having produced his warrant, was now furious. He roared the answer back up to the wall, cursing the guards' blindness. "You are blind! How many military commanders are there? Military Commander Mu Changzhou!"
Silence followed the roar. Then, a quiet voice from within the carriage, a voice close to Shunyin, asked softly: "Who?"
The captain, already agitated, thought he was being mocked again. He bellowed louder: "Liangzhou Marching Sima, MU CHANGZHOU!"
In the carriage, Shunyin, who was sitting near the window, was completely, utterly still. Her hand, still holding the curtain, trembled slightly. She came back to her senses in a cold jolt of recognition. She was sure she had heard correctly.
Mu Changzhou?
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