Chapter 3: The General and the Ghost of Chang'an

 

The name had been dormant for what felt like a lifetime. But the instant she heard it, a long-lost image flashed into Shunyin’s mind, pulling with it the distant, glittering memories of her childhood.

She had been a true noble lady then, in Chang'an City. Her father was not only the hereditary Duke of Mi but also the powerful Minister of War. Her mother, from the prestigious Zheng family of Xingyang, held the title of Lady of the County. The Feng family’s glory was virtually limitless.

When she was nine, the family welcomed a guest. The Duke of Wuwei in Liangzhou, an old friend of her father, had sent his adopted son to the capital to study for the imperial exams. The young man was to stay at the Feng residence.

The Feng siblings buzzed with speculation. They admired the legendary heroes of Hexi, and their father, a military man, had instilled in them a respect for the brave. They wondered aloud what the Duke of Wuwei's talented adopted son would look like. Some suggested he must be old, seasoned by years of study.

Bored by the chatter, Shunyin turned and glanced toward the courtyard, just as a servant announced the arrival of the guest.

He was a thin, fair-skinned young man in a moon-white silk robe. His eyes were bright, his figure slender. He turned toward their group and raised a calm hand in salute. He looked no older than thirteen or fourteen.

A silence fell over the Feng children, the reality jarringly different from their heroic imaginings. Shunyin looked at him twice before looking away, concluding he was merely a young, frail scholar—not the military hero she had mistakenly anticipated.

Her father later clarified: His name was Changzhou. Though adopted, he had been raised as a true son of the Mu family, and was addressed as the second son. That settled it. For four years, he lived among them, and no one dared mention his adopted status again. Those younger than him were simply obliged to call him "Second Brother Mu."

Shunyin, growing up alongside her many brothers, often heard tales of his elegance and youthful grace. Yet, she found herself incapable of befriending him. She was reserved, and he was quiet. In the four years he lived under the Feng roof, they never spoke privately. Their few formal interactions involved her following the others in a polite, distant address: "Second Brother Mu." Whether he responded was irrelevant to her.

Her brothers' constant gossip about his delicate health only made Shunyin subconsciously distance herself further.

Her deepest memory of him came four years later. At the age of seventeen, he unexpectedly passed the imperial examination, shocking the capital.

That night, she was taken to the grand Qujiang Night Banquet for the newly minted Jinshi. The streets of Chang'an were crowded with carriages, filled with noble ladies hoping to "choose a good husband."

Her father smiled, pointing ahead. "I haven't mentioned it because you're still young. But this boy is talented and has a bright future. You grew up together. Why not choose him for you?"

Shunyin, standing by the Qujiang Lake, glanced at the frail, fair-skinned figure at the center of the celebrating crowd. She shook her head. "He and I are not of the same ilk."

Her father smiled, helpless.

Suddenly, the man in question turned, glanced in their direction, saw her father, and raised his hand in a greeting that did not quite meet her eyes.

After that night, he received a government appointment and left Chang'an. Their paths separated, each destined, they thought, for a brilliant future.

Who could have predicted that a year later, her father would be impeached, convicted, dismissed, and stripped of his title? The glorious Feng family tumbled from the clouds into the mud. Before her father’s death, the clan had already begun to scatter, leaving only her mother, her younger brother, and herself in a cage of isolation and veiled threat.

Until this marriage arrived.

Shunyin frowned, genuinely bewildered. How could it be Mu Changzhou?

She had rejected the initial proposal from the Duke of Wuwei's family, assuming that a man who had been the most sought-after scholar in the capital must be a high-ranking civil servant, destined to be a Prime Minister, and already happily married.

How did he become the Military Commander of Liangzhou, and how was that position suddenly linked to her own fall?

A flicker of candlelight jolted her back to the present. Outside the carriage window, the morning light was beginning to peek through. The night before, after the captain’s furious shout, the guards at Huining Pass had swiftly opened the gates. Since then, the journey had been a relentless blur. Shunyin hadn't slept well in days, the sudden news and the turbulent memories leaving her restless.

She extinguished the candle and prepared herself. The maids brought water and food, their actions quick and minimal, as Shunyin required no assistance. Once the perimeter screen of attendants was removed, the caravan set off instantly.

The captain, still urging speed, shouted at his men, a piece of flatbread dangling from his lips. "Hurry up! I want to reach Liangzhou right now!"

"Military Commander..." Shunyin spoke suddenly from the carriage.

The captain caught the first two words and looked back, confused. He quickly grinned, mistaking her intent. "Madam, don't worry. We'll see each other soon!"

Shunyin pressed her lips together. She had wanted to ask, "Does the Military Commander know he's marrying me?" But the question felt too strange. Besides, Mu Changzhou might not even remember her.

The carriage swayed, and a gust of wind lifted the curtain. Outside, they had entered a vast, desolate dusty wasteland. In the distance, pale yellow dunes rose and fell like motionless waves. The road was deserted and silent.

Suddenly, a sharp, whistling flute sound—abrupt and shrill—pierced the air like a knife.

Shunyin frowned, covering her ear. Before she could look out, the carriage jolted to a stop, and the captain roared: "Alarm! Hurry!"

A maid lifted the bamboo curtain. "Madam, get out of the carriage and hide quickly! It might be Sha bandits!"

Shunyin moved instantly. Her hand went into the bag under the seat, and from beneath several thick books, she drew a thin, straight dagger. She tucked it into her sleeve and stepped out.

The captain, having tossed aside his food, was ripping off his coat to reveal a mail chest. "You have no idea how high the heavens are! You've robbed your general!" The attendants, all military men in disguise, drew their weapons.

Shunyin was led by the maids toward a patch of trees and rocks for cover. Looking back, she saw a cloud of dust on the opposite side of the wasteland—the bandits were coming.

Just as the thought passed that this small group might not look like an official convoy, the captain cursed, revealing that he and his men were military officers and soldiers.

From a distant mound, the bandits—shadows on horseback—emerged, rushing forward with shouts. Several maids nearby shrieked and fell to the ground in terror. Shunyin gripped the dagger in her sleeve, her fingers cold. She had resolved to rely only on herself if danger arose, but she hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

She spotted a shallow ravine diagonally ahead—a better place to hide—and began to run toward it. A voice, carried on the wind, faintly reached her.

"Hold, get down!"

She couldn't make out the speaker, nor the direction, but she didn't stop.

A moment later, a feathered arrow flew past and lodged diagonally in the earth right at her feet. Startled, her skirt snagged on the shaft, and she fell to the ground, her face tightening in pain.

Another voice cursed, sharper this time: "Are you deaf! Why are you running? Don't move!"

Shunyin bit her lip and stayed down, clutching the dagger. Almost simultaneously, a faint, whooshing sound passed just over her head, coming from behind.

She lifted a corner of her veil and watched. A row of arrows rained down in front of the leading bandits. In an instant, two or three men toppled from their horses. The rest wheeled around and fled at frantic speed, scrambling back into the dust.

The captain and his men, who had been lying in wait, immediately got up, weapons drawn, and chased after them.

Shunyin took a stabilizing breath and looked back. She saw no one near her, but two maids rushed to help her up. On a stone slope three or four hundred feet behind them, a group of figures on horseback, all holding bows, were visible. They were too far to distinguish, separated by a deep valley. As she watched, the mounted group turned and rode away. The reinforcements had arrived.

The captain soon returned, cursing his bad luck but then laughing loudly. "It's just a small matter! Madam, don't be frightened. I told you this place isn't like the imperial capital!"

Shunyin, her breath still uneven, looked at him coldly through her veil. A small matter?

Seeing her composed, the captain merely chuckled and pointed behind her. "The reinforcements have arrived. Rejoin the front!"

She silently sheathed her dagger. Enduring the dull ache of her fall, she walked back to the group. The journey resumed, but now every attendant had their mail armor openly displayed. Shunyin sat in the carriage, trying to ignore the captain's grumbling outside: "Should have just set off with my identity revealed. Wanted to keep a low profile, but ended up attracting all these scoundrels..."

The journey stretched on, the passage of time marked only by the shifting light. Shunyin realized she had been dozing when the carriage suddenly stopped. Outside, the world was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight.

The captain shouted: "Meet here!"

Shunyin was instantly awake. Hoofbeats approached, growing louder and then stopping by the carriage. It had to be the welcoming party.

Before she could move, a high, orderly greeting rang out: "Military Commander!"

Her heart stalled. The Military Commander?

Then, the captain shouted: "Madam, please step down and pay your respects!"

Shunyin took a moment to gather herself. She understood now. With a gentle pursing of her lips, she drew the curtain and stepped out.

The night breeze was cool. Attendants on either side held torches, casting stark light and deep shadows. She looked up at the mounted group, all holding bows. They were clearly watching her.

Her gaze fell on the thinnest figure on the middle horse, who carried no bow. Assuming this was the famous scholar, she turned and bowed.

"Wow," the man exclaimed, turning his head in surprise. "Why is she bowing to me?"

Shunyin froze, stunned. Not him?

Suddenly, a man beside him poked his shoulder with a bow. Then, a figure detached from the group and rode toward her in the moonlight and firelight.

Shunyin's eyes fixed on him. Through the veil, she saw a man in a dark robe, with broad, straight shoulders, hair neatly crowned, and a longbow slung on his arm. He looked like a stranger she had never seen.

He reined in his horse, blocking her from the sight of the others. He leaned forward slightly, stretched out his free hand, and with a single finger, lifted the edge of her veil.

Shunyin subconsciously held her breath, focusing on the dark finger before her eyes, then finally lifting her gaze to his face. Against the light, she couldn't see his features clearly, but she felt his stare burning through the gauze.

The next moment, he withdrew his hand, letting the veil fall back into place.

Then, she heard his voice—a clear, authoritative command: "Send the lady into the city to rest."

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