Chapter 14: Calm Orders

                                

Rain fell briefly in Liangzhou that night, rare as it was, but it stopped so quickly the ground remained dry. By morning, nothing hindered Mu Changzhou from setting out on business.

He stepped from the main house at dawn. Changfeng was already waiting at the door, horizontal knife in hand, reporting, “I have gone to invite Madam.”

A few paces later, Mu Changzhou met Shunyin in the corridor. She emerged from the east room dressed for travel—a green silk narrow‑sleeved skirt, curtain hat in hand. Prepared swiftly, she greeted him first: “The brocade chosen for Brother Mu has already been sent to make robes.”

Mu Changzhou smiled faintly, recalling yesterday when she had spoken only of clothes before he left her room. Today, she mentioned it again. He walked with her down the cloister. “Then I must trouble Yin Niang.”

Shunyin followed his stride, answering lightly, “Brother Mu just likes it.”

Behind them, Shengyu glanced at Changfeng, noting how naturally the military officer and his wife now moved together.

At the gate, Shunyin slowed, watching Mu Changzhou mount first—saber and bow at his side, hat settled firmly. She mounted her own horse, thoughts drifting back to the letter she had yet to answer. Yesterday she had diverted his question, but sleep had been restless with the weight of what to write.

Her reverie broke when she felt eyes upon her. She turned—Zhang Junfeng and Hu Boer sat astride their horses among the bow guards. Both looked away at once, one tugging his beard, the other feigning interest in the clouds. Their strangeness unsettled her, but she guided her horse leftward as usual.

The team set off, the road familiar.

At the east city gate, they halted. A city guard hurried down from the wall, bowed before Mu Changzhou’s horse, and presented the defense record book. He reported on city defenses, then added news of the post station: few letters had been sent to officials’ homes, none recently.

Mu Changzhou flipped through the book, returned it calmly. “Report back if there is something.”

The guard saluted and withdrew. The team rode on.

Shunyin’s gaze lingered on the post station beneath the gate. Liangzhou had no foreign officials save Lu Yu—who would be sending letters? If inquiries arose, suspicion might fall upon her. She tightened her reins, glanced at Mu Changzhou ahead on her right. He seemed to sense her look, turning his eyes toward her. Through the drape she turned away quickly, feigning focus on the road.

Suddenly, a fast horse thundered toward them, dust trailing. The rider halted before the team, saluted Mu Changzhou, and reported breathlessly to Zhang Junfeng: “Zuo Shi, there is trouble in the camp!”

Junfeng spurred forward. “That’s my battalion.”

Mu Changzhou’s reply was calm. “You go first.”

Junfeng wheeled his horse and galloped off with the messenger.

The team continued at steady pace. Shunyin recognized the route—toward the camp she had visited before.

Soon they arrived. The camp had grown, tents multiplied, the rocky backdrop extended. She guessed the five thousand Shanzhou elites had joined.

At the gate, Zhang Junfeng reappeared, mounted, soldiers behind him armed and tense, noise still echoing from within.

He rode to Mu Changzhou. “Military Division, the former deputy general of the Shanzhou soldiers, Mali, has been taken down.”

Mu Changzhou nodded, unsurprised. From horseback he gave his order, voice warm yet chillingly firm: “Interrogate whether there was premeditation, whether there was incitement. Once it is clear, send him on the road.”

Shunyin turned sharply, startled.

Mu Changzhou glanced at her, then guided his horse to her left.

Junfeng and Hu Boer rode off to carry out the command. Shunyin could not hear their words, but soon the camp fell quiet.

She pressed her lips together, eyes flicking to Mu Changzhou’s figure astride his horse. She was not surprised that such an order was a felony. What unsettled her was how easily, how calmly, the words had left his mouth—like a trivial matter, spoken without weight.

Mu Changzhou did not enter the camp until a soldier reported the disturbance had subsided. Then he rode back to Shunyin’s side, glanced at her, and said simply, “Let’s go.”

The team passed before the camp and continued eastward, as if nothing had happened.

Shunyin held her reins, feigning calm, though her eyes flicked toward him twice. She wondered, without reason, what he intended to do with the captured Central Plains spies.

The road stretched on. She followed slightly behind, calculating distance. They had ridden so far east she felt as though they were heading toward the Central Plains itself.

Hooves thundered from behind. Zhang Junfeng and Hu Boer galloped up, straight to Mu Changzhou. Shunyin turned her head briefly, then looked away—she knew the camp’s affairs were settled and they had come to report.

Sure enough, Zhang Junfeng said, “Don’t worry, Military Officer, it is done.”

Hu Boer sneered, “When they make trouble, it is neither light nor heavy. But when punishment comes, they beg for mercy again and again.”

Mu Changzhou’s glance silenced him. He pulled his reins, riding ahead.

Hu Boer, chastened, followed with a dry laugh. “The military commander is taking care of his wife. I heard from the assistant historian—the division and his wife are close. No wonder they are intimate even as newlyweds. I had merit in welcoming the bride, and now the commander stays in Gentle Township every night, enjoying tenderness from old friends. Truly rewarding.”

Zhang Junfeng shot him a blank look.

Mu Changzhou’s lips curved faintly. His gaze softened toward Shunyin, who sat straight on her horse, eyes turned elsewhere, seemingly indifferent. He looked back at Hu Boer. “Report to me in detail.”

Hu Boer sobered, abandoning his jest, and gave the account of the camp’s handling.

Shunyin scanned the terrain, gauging distance. The three men halted their horses to confer. She rode ahead, southeastward. The sunlight was thin, clouds heavy, fog obscuring the horizon. Qinzhou lay in that direction, though hundreds of miles away—nothing could be seen.

Her thoughts turned restless again. She stroked the drape of her hat, frowning, when suddenly she noticed a string of horseshoe prints. She pulled her reins sharply, guiding her horse aside just in time.

“Don’t move,” Mu Changzhou ordered.

She looked up. He had already returned from the left, reins taut, stepping onto a dirt slope. He stood listening, then dismounted. “Pause. Check.”

Everyone dismounted.

Shunyin watched him, remembering he had done the same before, and followed suit.

He released his reins, walked forward, eyes flicking to Hu Boer.

Shunyin saw him approach, glanced at the ground, and stepped aside.

Hu Boer crouched, touching the hoofprints. “Junshi, like a horse from the Central Plains. Liangzhou does not nail such horseshoes.”

Shunyin frowned beneath her veil, turned away. If I had known, I would have stepped on them directly.

Mu Changzhou’s voice came suddenly, close. “What does Yin Niang think?”

Startled, she looked at him. “Why does Brother Mu ask me?”

He studied her. “I have been away from the Central Plains for long. I don’t know its situation. Yin Niang just came—perhaps you know.”

Her face remained composed. “I don’t understand this.”

He said nothing, but his eyes lingered.

Through the veil she caught his gaze, then deliberately asked, “Brother Mu just stopped—what were you listening for?”

Hu Boer straightened proudly. “Naturally, listening for movement. The commander has excellent ears. Shouldn’t you know?” His round eyes fixed on her suspiciously.

She turned her head, meeting his stare briefly, then glanced at Zhang Junfeng beside him.

Mu Changzhou looked again at the hoofprints, judged the riders had already gone, and signaled them to search further. Hu Boer and Zhang Junfeng led men away.

Shunyin lowered her voice. “Brother Mu told them you and I have passed?”

He raised his eyes, brows lifting slightly, a smile touching his lips.

She frowned. “What?”

He stepped closer, ensuring no one overheard, leaned near her ear, and whispered, “It’s nothing. I was only thinking of what past you and I share.”

Her lips pressed tight. There is no past. Only a refusal of marriage. Suddenly she understood—he must have heard of it. The chief manager’s wife had spoken when she wrote. That was why he said she did not need those things. Her ears warmed. “You truly have excellent ear power.”

Mu Changzhou’s gaze lingered. “The ear strength is acceptable. One can speak a little.” He paused, eyes flicking to her left ear.

Shunyin asked quickly, “So what?”—afraid he would return to the hoofprints.

He looked at her face. “It’s nothing.” Then he walked on, continuing his inspection.

Just now, he had almost said they were husband and wife, destined. But the words remained unspoken, swallowed back into silence.

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