Chapter 15: The Trap Beneath the Quiet Grass

They searched the entire area thoroughly, yet found nothing.

Zhang Junfeng returned with his men, stopping at the line of hoofprints. His brows drew together as he murmured, “If horses from the Central Plains came all the way here… they must know this land better than we do.”

Hu Bo’er followed behind him, hand resting on his sword, his voice gruff. “Impossible. They couldn’t even get their scouts in.”
He paused halfway, glancing at Shunyin. Thinking it better not to mention Central Plains scouts before her, he quickly changed course: “Why don’t we go east and chase them?”

Mu Changzhou approached, longbow in hand, silent as he examined the prints.

Shunyin, standing a little distance away, heard everything. Her heart tightened, fingers curling inside her sleeve. Could Feng Wuji have sent people based on her information?
But that couldn’t be—Feng Wuji would never be so reckless while she was still here. And what use was it? She could see more from here than anyone he could send.

She glanced in the direction of the prints just as Mu Changzhou lifted his head, ready to speak. She almost interrupted—but stopped herself.

Then his gaze shifted pointedly toward her.
“What does Yinniang think?”

Why was he asking her again? After a brief thought she replied lightly, “I’m only worried we won’t see any sights today.” Through her veil she met his eyes calmly, as if she meant nothing more.

Hu Bo’er gaped at her. “That’s what Madam is worried about?”

Shunyin shot back, “Then what should I worry about?”

“…” Hu Bo’er swallowed his words, then hastily turned to Mu Changzhou. “Commander, were you about to give an order?”

Mu Changzhou’s gaze moved back to Shunyin. “I was going to order a return. We’ll investigate to the west.”

Shunyin quietly exhaled. She nearly thought he would send men toward the Central Plains.

The guards brought the horses forward. Mu Changzhou mounted first. “We ride west. Circle around the city.”

Everyone followed.

Shunyin mounted as well, keeping herself slightly behind him to his left, pretending indifference as she turned her head this way and that, as though genuinely sightseeing.

Seeing her settle into place, Zhang Junfeng urged his horse closer to Mu Changzhou. “Commander, you truly intend to check the western side?”

Mu Changzhou nodded. Central Plains scouts wouldn’t be returning anytime soon—and horseshoes were easily counterfeited in Hexi.
But he couldn’t overlook anything.

He looked back at Hu Bo’er and signaled him over.

Hu Bo’er rode up quickly. “What are your orders?”

Mu Changzhou lowered his voice. “Keep an eye on the movements in the Central Plains as well.”

Hu Bo’er nodded and fell back.

Shunyin only heard vague murmurs. When she looked back again, the formation had already resumed; Mu Changzhou still led them steadily forward.

But their pace remained slow—careful—eyes sweeping the surroundings.

Nearly an hour later, when the sun had risen high, Mu Changzhou raised his hand.

The troop halted.
Hu Bo’er leapt from his horse and headed toward an earthen slope. After crouching and examining for a long moment, he stood and called out, “There’s another one!”

Zhang Junfeng rode over, then turned back to Mu Changzhou. “Same hoofprints as earlier—only this time, there’s another string.”

Mu Changzhou’s expression sharpened. “Stay here and protect the lady.”
He glanced at Hu Bo’er. “Choose a few men and come with me.”

Hu Bo’er mounted quickly, gathering several archers to follow.

Mu Changzhou cast a brief look at Shunyin, then spurred his horse and disappeared with his men.

Shunyin watched him go, secretly relieved.
So she had guessed right—the horse wasn’t from the Central Plains. Now she wondered if someone in Hexi was making trouble instead.

She tugged her reins gently, turning—only to find Zhang Junfeng riding beside her. After a beat, she asked casually, “The Commander oversees both military and civil affairs in Liangzhou. He holds great power in Hexi. Is there truly anyone who would dare oppose him?”

Zhang Junfeng had planned to ignore her, but since she’d spoken, he answered, “Madam doesn’t think that position was easily earned, does she? The Commander climbed step by step over seven years.”

Shunyin’s eyes flickered. She recalled Lu Tiao saying Mu Changzhou was born a scholar, young yet highly placed—and resented by many. She pressed her lips together thoughtfully, remaining silent.

Zhang Junfeng said no more, simply moving a short distance away to play his role as her temporary bodyguard.

Silence stretched.

After a long wait, even after Shunyin had studied the terrain around them, hoofbeats finally approached.

She turned—the sound came from the side. Mu Changzhou appeared on horseback, not from the direction he’d left earlier. He must have taken a shortcut.

Hu Bo’er and the archers followed close behind.

The horse stopped before her. Mu Changzhou—bow and reins in one hand, three arrows in the other—handed one of the arrows to a guard. “Clean it. Leave no traces.”

The guard immediately gave him a strip of silk.

Shunyin watched in silence.
The arrowheads were soaked—blood reaching halfway up the shafts. Blood dotted the back of his hand as well.

He wiped his hand clean, then handed the cloth back. The archer swiftly wiped the arrowheads and placed them neatly into the quiver. Cold, efficient—practiced.

Shunyin looked at the dirt beneath them. So this wasn’t the first time. She’d always thought his hands were meant only for brush and ink—never imagining she’d witness this side of him.

Zhang Junfeng rode closer. “Looks like the Commander resolved it.”

Hu Bo’er snorted. “Three lackeys. They almost slipped away, but the Commander took a shortcut—one arrow each.”
Seeing Mu Changzhou didn’t hide it, he added, “They were from Ganzhou.”

He lowered his voice, but Shunyin still caught it.
Troops from Hexi.
Her gaze lifted instinctively toward Mu Changzhou.

Zhang Junfeng muttered, “Shanzhou and Ganzhou—always the most restless. Those hoofprints eastward must’ve been a diversion, just to cause trouble for the Commander.”

Mu Changzhou returned to Shunyin’s side and cut him off. “Enough. We return.”

The group immediately fell silent and lined up.

Shunyin finally felt a small breath of relief.

She moved her horse closer to Mu Changzhou’s left side—when his voice suddenly came:

“Yinniang, are you still eager to see the sights?”

She turned, finding him staring directly at her. Adjusting the veil over her eyes, she said, “I was. But seeing Second Brother Mu troubled, how could I still be in a hurry?”
As soon as she said it, she frowned inwardly. Why had he been watching her all day?

Mu Changzhou said nothing and rode forward, leading them down a secluded route. They had taken a huge detour; this was the closest return path.

Hu Bo’er rode behind them. “Commander, this way is closer, but we have the lady. Shouldn’t we return by the east gate?”

Shunyin studied the narrow path—grass lightly overgrown, leading straight toward the west gate. Indeed shorter. So why did he insist?

The path soon forked repeatedly. Mu Changzhou stopped.
“The road ahead is narrow. You split into two groups. Madam, follow me.”

Hu Bo’er took the left with his men.
Zhang Junfeng took the right.

Shunyin watched their careful formation—single file, steady. Something was unusual. She looked at Mu Changzhou’s back and grew more cautious as she followed.

He led calmly, bow in one hand, reins in the other. “In your daily accounts of what you see and hear… do you ever record military matters?”

Shunyin stiffened slightly. “Why do you ask, Second Brother Mu?”

“No particular reason,” he said, not turning. “You are, after all, Minister Feng’s daughter. It wouldn’t be surprising if such things found their way into your notes.”
How else did she know to hide in the trench that day? How did she avoid the hoofprints today? Her awareness was nearly that of a soldier.

Shunyin said flatly, “No. Those things cannot be written.”

Mu Changzhou nodded. “Naturally.”

Then why ask? she thought.

The area grew quieter. She straightened, sensing that few people ever passed this way. While scanning both sides, she glanced forward—only to see Mu Changzhou suddenly move his horse to her left.

She blinked in surprise. Ever since he learned her left ear heard nothing, he always stayed on her right. Why the sudden change?

He noticed her look and offered a faint smile. “I’ll stay on the left—so I can protect you.”

Shunyin opened her mouth, unsure what danger he meant—when her horse stepped on a patch of weeds and snorted sharply.

Something dark hid beneath the grass.

She tugged the reins instantly.

A loud thud—a crossbeam sprang up from the right.

She jerked her horse left—only for another sound to come from her unheard side. The horse lurched, and she nearly fell—straight toward a deep pit.

Instinct surged—she jumped off before she saw clearly. Her feet hit the ground but slipped—

A hand closed around her waist from behind, steadying her.

She turned—and nearly collided with Mu Changzhou’s chest.
He had been right behind her the entire time.

On the ground, a raised crossbeam on one side and a hidden ditch on the other—
A horse trap.
Thankfully without spikes.

Her mind snapped back. She tried to pull away—

But Mu Changzhou’s arm swept around her again, the longbow hooking behind her waist, pulling her close.

She froze.

His chest pressed lightly against her back. His breath fell warm on her hair. His eyes locked onto hers with a calmness that felt almost patient—as if he had known this would happen, as if he had been waiting precisely for this moment.

“Yinniang’s reaction,” he said softly, “was very quick just now.”