Chapter 28: Li Shuang’s Vow

 

The morning light had barely broken when a soldier rushed to report—Chang Wanshan had awakened and wished to see the General.

Li Shuang had not slept all night. The paper stained with his black blood still lay before her, its few written numbers haunting her thoughts. Through those symbols, she could almost see that mysterious man—bound, distant, swallowed by shadows. And then, those eyes… crimson as the sunset on that fateful day they parted.

She hadn’t realized, until this moment, how deeply she missed him.

At once, Li Shuang set aside the letter and made her way to the Imperial Guard camp.

As she entered, soldiers rose and saluted her with reverence. Chang Wanshan struggled to sit, but Li Shuang gently pressed him back down. “No need for formalities.”

He nodded weakly, his face pale. “General, the person you seek is within the Wu Ling Gate at South Changshan.”

“I’ve seen the note,” she replied evenly. “Tell me everything.”

Chang Wanshan’s gaze darkened. His voice trembled as he began, “Three months ago, I followed their trail south, sending word whenever I could. But the Wu Ling Gate Master had long discovered me. None of my messages ever reached Lu City. In the end, I was captured—by Wu Yin himself.”

He clutched his chest, the faint tremor in his hands betraying his fear. “Wu Yin’s skill is… beyond imagination. He could’ve killed me but instead imprisoned me in the underground dungeon of South Changshan—together with the black-armored man.”

Li Shuang’s heart jolted. “Together? Why? How… how was he?”

She longed to ask more, but the words caught in her throat. As a general, she had to remain composed. So she only waited—silent, steady, though her heartbeat quickened painfully.

“In that dungeon,” Chang Wanshan continued, “the light was dim. By day, silence. By night, torches flickered. The mysterious man was chained to the wall—neck, wrists, and ankles bound. Each night, they cut into his chest. I don’t know why… but for the first few days, he was sometimes conscious. He would ask… about the General.”

He had asked about her.

Li Shuang’s breath faltered.

He remembered her.

“Later,” Chang Wanshan whispered, “he began to lose his mind. He screamed and wept like a wild beast. Sometimes silent, sometimes roaring. The sound…” He shuddered. “It was unbearable.”

Li Shuang closed her eyes. Though he hadn’t described it vividly, she could see it—the dungeon, the chains, the man’s pain beneath flickering torchlight. The man who had once stood tall beside her, now brought so low.

Her heart ached.

“Then Wu Yin came,” Chang Wanshan said, voice dropping. “He observed that man for days, bleeding him, torturing him in ways I couldn’t comprehend. But it only made him more violent. He tore through iron chains—desperate to escape.”

Li Shuang could almost hear it—the sound of metal breaking, the ragged breathing, the fury, the despair.

“Finally,” Chang Wanshan said, “Wu Yin gave up. He said, ‘The Jade Silkworm can no longer adapt to other hosts.’ After that, he ordered me disposed of.”

Li Shuang’s expression froze. Jade Silkworm… again. The name reeked of dark Gu sorcery.

“They cut me open,” Chang Wanshan said faintly, “to feed me to the Gu insects. Luckily, I had carried certain medicines. They slowed the poison. I escaped when the disciples grew careless. My Black Wind horse… waited for me for two months. It brought me back.”

His voice trembled. “I wrote everything down, fearing I’d die on the way. Never did I think the General herself would save me. This subordinate—”

Li Shuang pressed him down once more. “Enough. This journey was at my command, not the empire’s. You risked your life for my personal mission. I should be the one to thank you.”

“General!” Chang Wanshan protested, emotion surging in his hoarse voice. “That black-armored man saved our city, our camp—he protected you! It was my duty to rescue him. Only… my strength failed me.”

“Enough,” Li Shuang interrupted quietly.

The tent fell silent.

She knew her soldiers well. Each one was loyal and righteous. They remembered every kindness, never forgot any debt. Chang Wanshan’s loyalty was born of gratitude.

But her own reason to save him… was something else.

She thought of those eyes—eyes that had watched her with clarity, warmth, and unspoken affection. She wanted… to see them once more.

Li Shuang lowered her gaze, took a steady breath, and composed herself. When she looked up, her expression was calm again. “Rest now. I’ll take care of what comes next.”

Chang Wanshan finally relaxed, murmuring, “Yes, General.”

Outside, the cold wind cut through the camp. Li Shuang stepped out just as Qin Lan was preparing to depart.

“Have you prepared everything?” she asked.

“Yes, General.”

“Good. Hand them to me. Then change into civilian clothes and guard the camp.”

Qin Lan frowned, uncertain. “General?”

Li Shuang pulled a heavy cloak around her shoulders, her voice light but resolute. “I will return to the capital myself.”

Qin Lan froze. Yesterday, she had sworn she would not go back. Yet now… she was already mounting her horse, her movements sharp and practiced, the wind sweeping through her hair and cloak.

“What does the General mean by this?” he demanded, his voice unsteady.

“I want to save someone,” she said simply. “And for that, I’ll need His Majesty’s help.”

The wind howled between them.

Qin Lan’s eyes darkened. “Do you understand, General? Returning to the capital now means facing not only the Western Rong… but the court itself—the power, the intrigue, the chains of favor.”

Li Shuang’s reply was immediate. “I know. But there’s someone I must save, even if it costs me everything.”

Qin Lan’s lips parted, but no words came. He could only watch her—the woman he had followed since youth—ride away into the gray morning light.

Once, he had believed Li Shuang belonged to no one. Not to the court, not to the prince, not even to destiny. But now… he saw that her heart had already chosen its path.

And it wasn’t one that included him.

She wasn’t riding for honor, or duty, or family.

She was riding—for love.

For the one man who had captured her heart completely.

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