Chasing Dreams - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

After the drizzling rain sacrificial ceremony in late spring during the thirty-third year of Lintai, Tilan repeatedly had the same indecipherable dream.

It was a woman from the Eastern Land, her heart pierced through by two long steel-tipped arrows, resolutely plunging down from a lofty city wall. Trailing garments of fiery silk, she plummeted all the way to the ground, looking like a flame that refused to be extinguished until the very end.

Tilan would always jolt awake in the dead of night, repeatedly recalling that face. Her brows and features were distinct, yet they belonged to someone she had never met before.

Those chaotic dreams tore jagged rifts across the dark fabric of time, allowing her to catch a glimpse of the corner of the future. However, who she saw, or what kind of circumstances she witnessed, was never hers to choose.

The days passed swiftly. The rebellious usurper king's army lost the last city in Lanzhou, forcing them to venture a desperate, hurried march straight across the Eastern Land. With their forces decimated, they fled to the northwest of Zhongzhou to make a stubborn last stand, and the realm of Chu Zhongxu was practically a foregone conclusion. In January of the thirty-fourth year of Lintai, the remnants of the usurper Chu Fengyi crossed the sea to march north, while his half-sister, Princess Hongyao, who had been married off far away to the Hanke Tribe of Hanbei years ago, also led her troops southward, breaking through Huangquan Pass to provide reinforcements. Seeing that Chu Fengyi was about to escape into the barbarian territory, King Xu of the East, Chu Zhongxu, and Duke Fang Jianming of Qinghai led the royal forces in an all-out pursuit.

For a full eight years, the land had swallowed up the flesh, blood, and bones of hundreds of thousands of soldiers and civilians. No matter how greedy and bloodthirsty the soil of the Eastern Land was, was it not close to being satisfied? Yet the countries of the Western Land remained in a state of absolute peace, profiting handsomely by selling weapons, armor, grain, and fodder. Among them, Nanzhao, which controlled the majority of the shipping routes, was the most prominent of all. The palace chronicles for February recorded only the tedious and lengthy affairs in preparation for the eighth birthday of Crown Prince Solan in March, while the litter of kits recently given birth to by the Eastern Land brocade civets raised by Princess Tilan undoubtedly provided the liveliest gossip.

Having nothing to do in the afternoon, Tilan asked Gongye to help her over to King Chang's residence for a casual chat, only to find that Ji Chang had already been summoned away earlier by someone close to the Great Khan Yingjia, and Tang Qianzi was naturally attending upon him as well. Tilan thought for a moment and said, "I wonder how those civets are doing? Since we've already come out, let's simply take a stroll to the suburban villa." The servants waiting outside the villa, seeing that Tilan had arrived, had already knelt in a row on the ground. Tilan’s status was originally noble, coupled with the fact that she was the biological maternal niece of the Great Khan and the only full sister of the Crown Prince, the palace attendants paid her exceptional flattery.

"Oh? Why have they been moved out today? Be careful, Your Highness, they are right under your feet," Gongye said.

Smiling, Tilan leaned over to stroke them. As it turned out, felt rugs were spread across the grass, and the mother animal was curled up in a circle dozing, her fluffy tail encircling the downy newborns inside, leaving only five or six pink, tender little noses exposed. These brocade civets were already quite tame and allowed her to stroke them, looking delightfully lazy and content.

Suddenly, Tilan asked in puzzlement, "Eh? How come there are two fewer little ones?" A palace attendant replied, "Those two are particularly weak and cannot bear the sunlight, so they've been kept inside the room." Tilan said, "How pitiful. Gongye, help me inside to take a look." Gongye agreed, but the lead palace attendant panicked, kowtowing and saying, "We truly dare not conceal this from Your Highness, those two are not doing well and look rather frightening; they might needlessly frighten Your Highness." Tilan raised her brow. "I said I'd take a look, but since I can't see anyway, whatever you say they look like, that is what they must be." Knowing her temper had flared, the palace attendants dared not say more and merely kowtowed incessantly.

Tilan stepped forward to walk, and Gongye hurried up to support her hand. Once they had stepped inside the door, a sentence was left floating lightly behind them: "I utterly loathe people telling lies to coax me." The lead palace attendant lay prostrate on the ground, not daring to get up, covered in sweat.

As soon as they entered the room, they heard the plaintive cries of the newborns and the splashing of water. Gongye seemed startled, shouting something very rapidly in the language of the Eastern Land. Another splash of water followed, and the shrill, weak cries of the baby animals finally gradually subsided.

Unaware of the situation and still wearing a smile on her face, Tilan asked, "What is the matter?" Gongye said with indignation, "This Eastern Land crone was about to drown the little civets by immersing them in a bucket! Thanks to Your Highness's blessing, if we had arrived even a step later, they would have been beyond saving." "Why be so cruel for no reason?" Tilan chided angrily.

Civets possessed delicate temperaments, so the palace had assigned eight seasoned attendants to them, and specifically hired two women from the Eastern Land to look after them before they gave birth. Because of the language barrier, Gongye would usually translate whenever Tilan visited.

Reading her expression and realizing she had caused a disaster, the woman did not wait for Gongye to question her. She kowtowed loudly on the floor and repeatedly shouted something in the Eastern Land language, as if begging for mercy.

Hearing this, Tilan's heart tightened abruptly. She gripped Gongye's hand tightly, her voice unsteady as she repeatedly pressed, "What is she saying? What is she saying?" Gongye replied, "This crone says these two little ones are obviously not going to survive and would pass the plague onto the other little ones, so they truly cannot be kept. She begs Your Highness to examine the facts." Tilan hissed, "The first eight words—give me just those first eight words! Explain it clearly to me word for word!" Enduring the piercing pain in her hand, Gongye hurried to say, "Her first eight words were... 'Your Highness, her life cannot be spared.'"

The strength gripping Gongye—as if trying to wring juice from her—slowly relaxed. All the blood in Tilan's body rushed to her temples, and though her vision went black, her heart instantly felt as empty as a snow cave.

She did not understand those Eastern Land words, yet she had remembered them for nearly ten years. The rising and falling cadence of the tone was etched clearly in her mind.

On the night the fierce fire consumed the city, a six-year-old she had clutched Solan, fleeing through the royal city with nowhere to hide. Thirty-two panels of mica screens inlaid with gold and pomegranate stones—she stood on this side, while the youth stood on the other, pursuing their respective destinies and running desperately. When the screen came to an end, he suddenly grabbed her hand, and two unrelated threads of silk were thus tied into a dead knot, impossible to unravel. For the very first time, she heard the voice of this young general; what he spoke were those very words.

Later on, when the pursuing troops had all been wiped out, the little boy who had been trembling in her arms finally loosened his grip. The surroundings were so quiet, and the blood-stained soldiers surrounded them, shutting out the tumultuous sounds of slaughter and making her feel unprecedentedly safe. What he spoke was still those very words.

That resolute, brave, and clear voice was surely capable of commanding tens of thousands of troops. Even an alien girl like her, who didn't understand the language, would ignite a tiny spark of courage every time she heard his words, gritting her teeth to suppress the impulse to scream in terror over and over again.

Everyone said that he had saved her back then, and she had always believed it.

As it turned out, what he had actually said was: Your Highness, her life cannot be spared.

The Eastern Land woman lay prostrate on the ground for a long time. Hearing no movement, she dared to steal a glance, only to see the princess in white standing rigidly in place, her expression obscured by the satin ribbon blindfold, while the female slave supporting her did not dare to make a sound. After a little less than a quarter of an hour, the princess finally spoke: "Then we have no choice but to kill them." With that, she turned around and walked away like a gust of wind, her white skirt billowing like a brand-new, massive sail.

Few people were permitted to approach the side of the Great Khan Yingjia, and Ji Chang was one of them.

The nation of Nanzhao had two rulers: the nominal one spent all his days and months exuding the rotting stench of death behind magnificent silk curtains, while the actual ruler possessed a shriveled body clad in a small brocade robe, sinking deep amidst layers of quilts like a terrifying, monstrous infant. Every time he saw the Great Khan Yingjia, Ji Chang could not help but maliciously think: to strangle this man whose power spanned the entire nation would probably only take one hand.

Ji Chang offered his greetings, and palace attendants immediately brought over several feather cushions, waiting upon him as he sat down before the low couch.

"Two months without seeing you, and Your Highness has grown taller once again," the Great Khan glanced sideways at him and smiled.

The facial features of the people of Nanzhao were naturally deep-set, with dark complexions and mostly large, dark, mesmerizing eyes. However, because the Great Khan had long been hidden from the daylight, he possessed a gloomy, morbid whiteness, which, set against his blazing eyes, was particularly startling. Ji Chang had always abhorred that kind of gaze, though he naturally did not show it on his face, and smiled as well, saying, "Growing in height alone without growing in wit, what use is that?" The Great Khan continued to smile, propping himself up from the bed with a single push. Leveraging that momentum, he flung his body onto the mountain of soft pillows, placing himself directly opposite Ji Chang. Catching his breath, he said, "That is also good." Ever since he was thrown from a horse at the age of seventeen and broke his spine, this was the sum total of all the strength and agility he had left.

Ji Chang smiled faintly. "If I could possess even one percent of the Great Khan's wisdom, that truly would be wonderful."

Looking at him thoughtfully, Yingjia said, "You are truly a clever child. That little general of yours, although also clever, possesses a foolish kind of cleverness." "Although Zhenchu is scholarly and wise, he is truly of a martial, steadfast character; how could he ever be as slick as me?" "Wise yet steadfast? Ah, both of these traits are extremely rare, yet when placed in the same person, they inevitably end up mutually restraining each other. And yet Your Highness values him so greatly."

Ji Chang’s expression turned solemn for a moment. "To me, Zhenchu is like a brother and a friend. Without the Great Khan and him, Ji Chang would have lost his life ten years ago."

Yingjia glanced at him and chuckled lightly, "If Your Highness were to suffer any mishap in our country, he would likewise die. With duty and life bound together, he naturally exerts his utmost loyalty. Once you return to the Eastern Land, the sky will be vast and the seas boundless, and exceptional talents will flock to your banner like birds returning to the woods, placing themselves entirely at Your Highness's command. Even if the little general is not by your side for a time, there will be no shortage of people available to do your bidding."

For a split second, Ji Chang's breathing hitched, but he quickly smiled again. "That is still a long way off."

"Saying it is far, it is not so far anymore," the Great Khan nodded. "Right, the reason I invited Your Highness here today is because I have a serious matter to ask you. What does Your Highness think of the child Tilan?"

A buzzing sound rang through Ji Chang's mind. Suppressing the turbulent waves in his heart, he said, "Her Royal Highness the Princess is dignified, virtuous, and of peerless beauty."

"That being the case, Your Highness truly does not disdain Tilan? Then I am much more at ease."

"Great Khan, this is..."

"His Majesty Junliang has a younger sister, Princess Zizan. When you came to our Western Land, she also traveled to your Eastern Land, preparing to be betrothed to an imperial prince in the future. Later on, she married your second older brother, King Xu, as his primary consort—you are well aware of this. This month, King Xu pursued Chu Fengyi all the way to Huangquan Pass, while Zizan recuperated at the prince's mansion in the secondary capital, City of Returning Frost. I have just received news—alas, such a flower-like, jade-like person was unexpectedly poisoned by someone and has passed away." Originally closing his eyes, the Great Khan now lifted a slit of his eyelids to look at him, speaking slowly, "I am thinking of sending another princess over. You brothers probably share similar tastes, and since you like her, King Xu will most likely fancy her as well."

The roaring waves in Ji Chang's heart instantly turned into a sea of hellfire, but he smoothed his expression into a smile and said, "What lofty status Princess Tilan holds! If it were not for my second brother's imperial bearing, who else would be worthy of matching her?"

"Speaking of which, the affairs of the world are truly impermanent. The summer before last, I heard that King Xu suffered severe injuries beneath the walls of Tongping City and nearly perished. At that time, I was already thinking that if King Xu truly died for his country, I would inevitably have to prepare to send Your Highness, Prince Chang, back to the Eastern Land to turn the tide. Since Tilan usually shares the closest relations with Your Highness, the marriage was betrothed, and following along to serve Your Highness would not have been out of the question. Never did I expect that King Xu would be blessed by heaven and is on the verge of accomplishing his hegemony, while the one lacking fortune is Zizan. If Your Highness has any princess you fancy, you need only ask me for her."

"When I was six or seven, my mother arranged a betrothal for me. Because she was merely the daughter of a court official and the matter was not promulgated among the various nations, I suppose the Great Khan is unaware. To my shame, amidst the domestic chaos and the separation of life and death, I cannot find her, nor do I have the heart to take another wife." Ji Chang still smiled.

Knowing full well that he was spinning falsehoods and choosing not to bicker over it, Yingjia smiled and said, "You are steadfast and hold true to your promises; Your Highness is truly a deeply affectionate person. Well then, when Your Highness gloriously returns to the Eastern Land in the future, you may also take it upon yourself to send Tilan off in marriage. My envoys are all bunglers; letting them deliver dispatches and gifts is one thing, but sending my precious niece away is something I cannot rest easy entrusting to them."

Ji Chang bowed his head. "I will certainly not辜负 the trust placed in me, and will escort the Princess safely to Tianqi."

"Then I am at ease. In the future, opportunities for such heart-to-heart talks with Your Highness will no longer exist. After King Xu ascends the throne, his issuing an imperial decree to summon you back to the country will likely happen within this month or two. Let me offer Your Highness my congratulations and best regards in advance."

The twenty-year-old prince raised his eyes to gaze deep into the eyes of the man before him. Back then, it was precisely this crippled and feeble individual who taught him that to turn and grasp the throat of destiny, apart from swords, spears, and halberds, there were other paths. At that moment, another door opened deep within his heart, and what surged forth from within was the raging fire of ambition.

Yet at this moment, Ji Chang could not discern a single trace of his thoughts or clues, and could only stand up, executing a solemn bow. Smiling, the Great Khan accepted it, saying, "A mere cripple unable to stand up and shake hands with Your Highness—forgive me."

Just as Ji Chang had walked a couple of steps toward the exit, he suddenly turned back, bowed deeply, and said, "There is a matter that Ji Chang has harbored in his heart for a long time, constantly wishing to seek counsel from the Great Khan, yet fearing it would be overstepping my bounds."

"Not at all. Provided I can resolve it for Your Highness, I shall naturally tell you everything I know."

"The Panxiao Incident has been nearly ten years ago, yet rumors among the common folk have never ceased. Though veiled and obscure, their meaning invariably points to Your Highness having usurped the throne." Seeing that Yingjia's expression remained unchanged, Ji Chang grew bolder and continued, "Why has the Great Khan never refuted the rumors or spread the truth, instead bearing this infamy in vain?"

Yingjia burst out laughing. "You speak of the truth?"

Ji Chang nodded steadily. "The truth."

The crippled overlord slowly reined in his smile and recounted leisurely: "I am a cripple who can neither gallop horses and draw bows nor sail the seas for commerce. Naturally, given this background, as long as I was willing to lie quietly in bed and wait for death, I could have lived out several decades of peaceful days, but I simply refused. Without power in my hands, I feel uneasy; yet the power in this world is finite, and the moment I advance a step, someone else must retreat a step. Junliang naturally holds suspicions against me, yet I simply cannot let go. Power is such an intoxicating thing; even lying right here, I can still stir up wind and waves. Because I hold what others desire, they are willingly content to act as my hounds to seize even more, and this power rolls forward like a snowball, growing ever larger. This cripple of mine is a treasure trove; these thieves will forever fail to divide the spoils evenly, and if one of them wants to kill me, a whole flock is bound to protect me—look, they use what they have plundered to sustain me, and yet they still must beg for my favor!"

When he reached this point in his speech, he laughed uncontrollably, breaking into a fit of coughing that he could not stem. Catching his breath, he continued, "Even if Junliang doesn't kill me, I shall kill him in the future, so I am not bearing a false reputation in vain. Which monarch can escape death? As long as I live for a day, I cannot go a day without power, but once I close my eyes, all matters come to an end. Such is my nature, and I can hardly speak of passing this on to heirs—everything ultimately belongs to Solan anyway. Leaving those rumors circulating in the streets will also prove beneficial to Solan in the future."

The hairs on the back of Ji Chang's neck stood on end. He shook his head and said, "The Great Khan's foresight is profound; Ji Chang does not entirely understand."

Yingjia laughed, as if he had truly been amused by him. "Does Your Highness remember the year you turned fourteen, when you barged uninvited into this bedchamber and spoke to me of a grand principle—winning public trust and the interdependence of lips and teeth? Every single word struck home, and your tone was both tactful and clever. That very day, I wrote out a handwritten edict ordering that the agreed-upon grain, provisions, cloth, and armor be handed over to Your Highness, to be transported north to the secondary capital of the Dazheng, the City of Returning Frost. I was certainly not bluffed into submission by a few words from Your Highness.

"That day, I had only just returned from Fengnan; even the princes within the palace might not necessarily have known of it. Palace attendants, guards, eunuchs—I know not which faction you bribed. This is a clever little trick, but laying out such a network takes more than a day or two, nor is it a matter of a hundred-odd silver coins. Thus I knew that Your Highness had long possessed both foresight and ambition.

"Logically speaking, when people are accused face-to-face of breaking faith and abandoning righteousness, most would fly into a rage. The strange thing was that the moment your speech concluded, not only was my dignity unimpaired, but I felt that you, child, were truly considerate and sensible, skillfully bypassing all those unsightly thoughts hidden in my belly. It is difficult for a good person to fathom the mind of a villain; only villains understand villains this thoroughly. Thus I knew once more that Your Highness possesses scheming ways—and malicious ones at that.

"At that time, the volunteer armies and loyalist forces around King Xu were growing day by day, and grain and provisions would naturally soon become unsustainable. Even with the support of merchant syndicates, it was after all limited, far inferior to the national strength of Nanzhao. You were also driven to a dead end, which led you to take this step, sufficiently demonstrating that Your Highness understands the tides of the times and possesses daring and resolve.

"Your Highness was young back then, and your thoughts may not have been entirely meticulous; half of those ideas, I imagine, were devised by your little general. To be a monarch, one does not necessarily need to excel at everything; as long as one knows whose advice should be heeded on any given matter, one can already be considered half an enlightened ruler—as for that King Xu in the City of Returning Frost, I know not what manner of man he is, but seeing Your Highness equipped with all these qualities, I cannot help but think: could the Eastern Land monarch of this generation happen to be right before my eyes?"

Listening as these words were slowly laid out before him, Ji Chang was uncertain whether misfortune or fortune awaited him. Hearing this final sentence, however, he gave a violent start and quickly forced a smile, saying, "The Great Khan must not make sport of Ji Chang." Yet his eyes grew sharp, harboring an intent to kill.

Yingjia smiled and waved a hand. "I have rambled on so much merely to make Your Highness understand that although you and I each have our hidden grievances, we are, after all, kindred spirits."

Ji Chang's heart calmed slightly, though his face remained wreathed in a lazy, indolent smile. "I am young, fond of play, and ignorant. Since the Great Khan is marrying Tilan to Second Brother, why did you indulge me in playing pranks and causing mischief around Second Brother?"

At this, Yingjia truly laughed heartily, his voice shrill and piercing like a night owl.

"What Your Highness covets is not this tiny bit of junk in my hands, so why should I meddle in other people's business? Rather, when Your Highness achieves your grand ambitions one day, do not forget that Nanzhao is your home."

Ji Chang took his leave. Just as he walked downstairs to the floral hall, Tang Qianzi rushed up to meet him, saying, "Your Highness, new news has just arrived from the port: Princess Consort Zizan has passed away."

Massaging the space between his brows with one hand, Ji Chang said wearily, "I know."

When Tilan returned to her bedchamber, the palace attendants reported that King Chang had been waiting for quite some while.

As she walked up to the small warm pavilion on the southern side of the second floor, she heard the rustle of garments colliding with armor, and knew that both Ji Chang and Tang Qianzi had risen from their seats.

Seeing that only Gongye followed her in, Ji Chang asked, "Where is that Eight-Treasure Tea of yours? I keep thinking of it, yet you people are so stingy and never bring it out to treat guests."

Gongye glanced at Tilan's expression and smiled faintly. "I'll go make it right now, but that stuff takes time. Your Highness, do sit for a while longer." With those words, she withdrew.

Quietly listening as Gongye's footsteps faded into the distance, Tang Qianzi stepped forward, took Tilan's hand, and said, "Tilan, we have something to tell you."

Although Tilan was smiling, a subtle grief shrouded her clear, pristine brow. "I also have something to tell you," she said.

"The Great Khan Yingjia is sending you to the Eastern Land to enter a marriage alliance with my second brother," Ji Chang said, gritting his teeth. "He wants you to return together with me."

Tilan slowly lifted her face, her lips pale white. Clutching Tang Qianzi's hand, her fingernails dug entirely into his wrist. Her blinded eyes were concealed beneath the satin ribbon, making her expression impossible to read, yet she exuded an imposing, bone-chillingly strange coldness.

Tang Qianzi felt as though what he held in his hand was a strip of ice, slowly and irrepressibly melting away.

With calm serenity, she nodded and said, "Just now, when I went to see the civets, people were sent by the Great Khan on my way back to summon me, and they spoke of this very matter... I have accepted it."

As soon as these words were uttered, both young men were stunned.

"Tilan, then you and Zhenchu..." Ji Chang blurted out in haste before trailing off completely.

Tang Qianzi gripped her hand, unconsciously exerting immense force. There were no words, only a bellyful of magma churning and tormenting him, yet unable to be spewed forth.

Tilan allowed him to hold her hand, lifting her head only after a long moment to say, "Zhenchu, I have wronged you."

Having grown accustomed to her usual haughtiness and willful tyranny, the two of them had never seen her looking so yielding and gentle, and they knew she had truly hardened her heart.

"Could it be that you two had a quarrel? Do not act out of spite," Ji Chang said.

Tilan's expression remained flat and wave-less, and the tone of her voice was likewise light and faint, resembling someone who had suffered heavy injuries. "How could I?"

Taking advantage of the moment when Tang Qianzi's grip gradually loosened, she softly and silently drew her hand back. "Everyone honors me with the title of 'Your Highness,' and they all say I am the sister of the future monarch. My marriage was originally meant to be a substitute bride for Solan. The slaves and ministers I order about and toss aside on a daily basis, and any single trinket casually plucked from my body, would suffice for an ordinary family's expenses for half a year—how could all this be for nothing? It was simply to await being put to such use. Besides, who can ever defy a matter determined by Uncle Yingjia?"

Upon hearing the name Yingjia, the complexions of both Tang Qianzi and Ji Chang turned pale as well.

The room remained silent for a long moment before Ji Chang spoke in a strained voice, "Do not be in a rush. There is a way to handle this matter, though it is extremely perilous, and whether it can succeed remains unknown."

Tilan showed not the slightest trace of joy, nodding silently as she said, "I fear it will not succeed."

Ji Chang was instantly choked into silence by her response.

At that moment, Gongye brought in the Eight-Treasure Tea and said, "Your Highness, the sample books of tribute silks are waiting outside, awaiting your selection to tailor new garments."

"Wait a moment," Tilan waved her hand and turned to walk toward the window. After executing a formal bow, Gongye withdrew.

The February sunlight was pale, cold, and clear, shining into the room through the golden window lattice carved with epic tales of twelve generations of former kings, casting zigzagging, delicate black shadows across Tilan's face as if she were draped in a dark veil. None of them touched the cups of tea on the table; in the blink of an eye, the rich sweetness and steam dissipated, leaving them chilled to the bone.

"Tilan."

Facing the window, Tilan answered vaguely, "Hmm?"

Ji Chang said, "Nowadays, sea pirates run rampant on the seas west of Wanzhou, making navigation impossible. We should cross the Chulao Sea and head toward Quanming Port. Once we reach Quanming, palace female officials and carriages will come forth to greet us. When you people of Nanzhao are sent off in marriage, you must drape yourselves in eighteen layers of black gauze and must not unveil yourselves until you are before the groom. It would be better if..."

"If what?" She still did not turn her head back.

"If Gongye can enter the palace in your stead, you might as well temporarily stay in Quanming for a while, and Zhenchu will return to fetch you."

Tilan paused slightly in contemplation. "And then?"

Before Ji Chang could reply, she spoke on her own accord, "And then you will be the lesser prince, second only to one and above tens of thousands—that much is certain. Zhenchu is your direct subordinate among direct subordinates, so he will naturally serve as an official at court or a major general guarding the frontiers. Living in seclusion, I shall simply be introduced as General Tang's wife married in the Western Land. Should I receive prophetic dreams in the night, I will naturally report them to you both. With the two of you united in heart and mind—one reaching the pinnacle of official posts, the other achieving everlasting victory—everyone will be safe, peaceful, and harmonious; that is not a bad outcome either."

Hearing the undertone of mockery in her words, Ji Chang pondered repeatedly, yet sensed something always stood between them that he could not fathom.

"Tilan, I promised that I would take you away one day. We can delay no longer now." Gazing at her slender back, Tang Qianzi felt as though his five viscera were burning like fire, and the hand gripping his sword inadvertently caused his veins to bulge.

Tilan nodded. "So you have always remembered."

Pausing briefly, she spoke again, "The hour is late, and outside they are still waiting for me to select the silk samples. You may as well summon them in."

Just as Ji Chang was about to say something else, seeing that Tilan evidently meant to dismiss her guests, he had no choice but to swallow his words.

Tang Qianzi cast a deep, lingering look at Tilan. Words stuck in his throat like a fishbone, yet his voice remained clear and resolute: "This subject takes his leave." With that, he resolutely turned and strode away, the hem of his military robe kicking up a tiny vortex of air as if he could not bear to stay even a single moment longer.

Gongye led a team of palace attendants into the room, bearing dozens of sample booklets of decorative patterns, only to see Tilan with both hands clutching the golden window lattice. Her originally delicate shoulders slumped as if enduring excruciating pain. Her raven-black hair was completely undone, cascading down to the floor like the waves of a midnight sea, with two exceptionally long ribbons woven amidst it, startlingly white.

"Your Highness!" Gongye lunged forward, flustered and panicked.

Abruptly whirling around, Tilan bit her lower lip into a deep, intense vermilion, yet she was actually suppressing a smile. Gorgeous yet chilling, completely unbefitting her age, her expression was nonetheless undeniably a smile.

Terrified to the point of nearly weeping, Gongye still possessed enough wits to quickly dismiss the palace attendants. After a flurry of rustling garments, the room held only Tilan and herself. She went to latch the door, and when she turned back, Tilan had already slumped against the table edge, propping her head on her hand. Gongye walked over with light, cautious steps, placed a foot-warmer beneath her feet, and brewed a fresh cup of hot tea to place in her hands. Instead of drinking, Tilan grasped her hand, her slender, ice-cold fingers clamping down tightly around her wrist.

"Gongye, I have a favor to ask of you," she said. "Can you promise me?"

Seeing Tilan's desolate complexion, Gongye hastily dropped to her knees beside her knee. "Gongye's very life belongs to Your Highness."

Tilan shook her head. "This matter requires your promise; I am begging you."

Unable to stem her tears, Gongye wept, "Your Highness, among pirate villages, infighting and annihilation of entire clans has never been a rare occurrence. Countless village girls are abducted and brought ashore to be sold, and those who fail to be sold all become human sacrifices offered by pirates to the Dragon Tail God. If not for Your Highness, Gongye would have lost her life at the age of seven; how could I have lived in such luxury and splendor until this very day? Even if Your Highness wanted Gongye's life..."

Tilan's eyes also brimmed with sorrow as she bent down to embrace her female slave. Her tears fell onto Gongye's light silk garment, leaving coin-sized dark marks, yet she still forced a smile. "When my older cousins took me to pick slaves back then, those with gorgeous appearances who could sing and dance were all chosen by them, leaving only you in the corner. Everyone said you were dark, thin, and unattractive. Originally, I didn't want to buy you, but you tugged at the corner of my garment and wouldn't let go, saying you knew how to tell stories—that was why I bought you. To buy you for a lifetime, yet it cost me merely half a gold coin; truly, that was a business with a hundredfold profit."

Weeping even harder, Gongye choked out, "No, Your Highness heard that unbought slaves were to be sacrificed to the gods, and without even asking the price, insisted on buying Gongye. Gongye will remember this for a lifetime."

Stroking her hair, Tilan let fall tears as she said, "Gongye, I truly cannot bear to part with you. Yet as for that matter, no matter how remote the hope, I must give it a try. You know how many years I have waited."

Gongye abruptly lifted her head, her face a mask of panic and tear stains.

On the twelfth of March, news came from the Eastern Land that in the Battle of Red Medicine Plain—fought four days and five nights north of Huangquan Pass—the royal forces achieved complete success in a single battle, annihilating over fifty thousand enemies. The rebel remnants were utterly wiped out, the Hanke army suffered devastating losses, and Gu Dacheng, one of the Six Winged Generals, struck off the head of the usurper Chu Fengyi. Princess Hongyao was trampled to death amidst the chaotic melee, leaving only a few severed limbs to be retrieved.

On the seventeenth of April, Chu Zhongxu ascended the throne in the Eastern Land imperial capital of Tianqi, proclaiming himself Emperor Xu, changing the era name to Tianxiang, and leading his army back to the capital.

On the ninth of May, the Dazheng envoys arrived in Bibuoluo, presenting documents to announce the new emperor's ascension to the throne, the official enshrinement of the late Princess Consort Zizan as Empress, and other related matters, while also presenting the decree of recall to King Chang.

The departure date for the journey of King Chang and Princess Tilan was set for the twentieth of May.

Setting sail from the port of Bibuoluo and riding the midsummer southwest wind into the Chulao Sea, they journeyed day and night for fifteen days before catching sight of Mount Minzhong from afar. From half a day's navigation away, one could already see a hazy strip of grey smoke on the horizon. As they gradually sailed closer, its rugged shape finally emerged from the pale grey mists.

The sailors leaped and swung nimbly through the rigging. Several right jib sails caught the wind at precise and accurate angles, causing the long magnolia wood ship to glide smoothly and gracefully into a fluid arc toward the left. People cried out in amazement as they surged toward the starboard side. This was the largest island in the Three Central Seas, and also a mountain floating upon the ocean. Within Chiran Bay on the southern side of the island, dozens of meters of sheer stone cliffs loomed abruptly before them, plunging down like a crimson waterfall from mid-air. Steep and precipitous, exotic birds cried and wheeled at the very peak. It was said this was the remains left by a landslide from centuries ago, and all the tens of thousands of boulders that had fallen had piled up at the foot of the precipice, forming a jagged, blood-red stone beach. The surging crests of the tides crashed rhythmically, then flowed back out through countless crevices. The wind and ripples howled together as they passed through those crevices, blowing a desolate, mournful cry that struck terror into the heart.

The ship made a wide turn, its bow nearly facing the open sea, and listed as it slowly drifted to berth on the western side. Yet beside this wild and desolate stone beach stood a row of multiple docks, each boasting twenty berths. The vessels coming and going belonged almost exclusively to Nanzhao, most of them merely docking at noon to stay for a single night. Shipowners and merchants would disembark, climbing a winding path up the Dragon Tail God Temple perched atop the cliff to offer sacrifices and prayers. Seeking a dream during the night, they would weigh anchor and set sail at the crack of dawn the following morning. Such a deep-watered, wide-pathed natural harbor of rare caliber possessed no commercial marketplaces or towns, and even pirates were unwilling to camp here, leaving it seemingly an uninhabited island.

Merchant vessels brought rumors from the boundless seas of the far east, telling of Sea Speakers who could command sharks and orcas haunting those waters for centuries. There were also rumors that if one could locate certain secret maritime regions in the Huan Sea and the Wei Sea, drop cargo down in baskets, and blow conch shells, Merfolk would surface to trade with them. Should they be satisfied with the goods, they would exchange them for glowing, light, soft sharkskin as brilliant as sunset glow or rainbows. Yet the people of Nanzhao had always turned a deaf ear to these tales, prudently keeping a respectful distance from the legendary race of deities. They knew how to listen to the singing of the seabed, using it to guide their merchant ships, laden with the happiness of the mortal world, safely back to harbor.

Tilan stood alone at the bow of the ship. Her habitual simple, plain white robes had been replaced by a thin silk gown sprinkled with gold and crimson, its rear hem trailing three feet behind like the tail feathers of a rare bird, fluttering as if she were about to take flight. The white satin ribbon over her eyes had also been removed. With the sea winds blowing strong, she was draped on the outside in a Returning Frost brocade shawl embroidered with bright blue natural peonies. Across her entire person, aside from the golden Dragon Tail God pendant at her neck and the palm-sized golden valerian flower beside her temple, not a single old item remained.

"Tilan." Hearing her name, she turned her head back and smiled at the person calling her. That faint hint of a smile, rendered exaggerated by the bright, vivid rouge on her lips, managed to resemble seven or eight parts of genuine joy. Whenever they approached her, they always made a point of calling her name to avoid startling her—over time, it had become a habit. The two boys who had led her around in mischief and play since childhood had both grown into imposing young men, yet their old habit remained unchanged.

Ji Chang walked forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her against the salty, fishy sea breeze. Though blind, she knew that Tang Qianzi was undoubtedly lagging two steps behind, standing at attention to the side.

"It's been so long since I've seen you dressed like this; I almost didn't recognize you," Ji Chang smiled.

Tilan smiled as well. "It's merely a change of garments. Before setting out, there is always so much to be busy with—selecting fabrics, tailoring clothes, and learning all those endless rules of your Eastern Land palaces—that I could never spare the time to visit you."

Falling silent for a moment, Tilan asked, "Are you not afraid?"

"Of what?" Ji Chang always spoke in a cheerful, indolent tone, sounding precisely like an ordinary dissolute youth.

Her unseeing, clouded eyes gazed toward the distant horizon where sea and sky met. "The day you shattered the divine statue, I had a nightmare in which you died at sea. Do you remember?"

Ji Chang let out a scoffing laugh. "How could I not? You cried back then and forbade me from ever returning to the Eastern Land."

Tilan shook her head gently. "What if it were real?"

The young prince chuckled playfully, "Then I would have to trouble Your Highness to have another dream and simply dream that I emerged from danger alive."

Frowning, Tilan said, "I possess no such ability."

Ji Chang gradually reined in his smile as well. "Affairs of this world are nothing more than a high-stakes gamble. It's not that I am unafraid of death, but before that deadline of destruction arrives, no matter what price must be paid, I must accomplish what I wish to do. Otherwise... I shall lose everything utterly."

Falling silent for a moment, as if realizing he had spoken out of turn, he abruptly veered the conversation elsewhere. "I remember you always wanted to come here ever since you were a child."

Tilan shook her head again, and the golden valerian flower petals beside her temple swayed gently with the motion. "That was something from when I was little."

A smile touched the corners of her lips. "Back then, Gongye slept by my side every night, telling me absurd yet wonderful stories about pirate ships. She said that deep within Mount Minzhong lies a lake, its shores completely filled with valerian flower trees like blazing fire. Deep beneath the lake waters, which shone brighter than silver, lay buried a sunken palace. Its walls were made of entire slabs of crystal, and its stairs of solid agate. Gold, coral, jade marrow, and ambergris—the Dragon Tail God piled up all his boundless wealth there, along with the treasures of every sunken ship from the past several thousand years. Even if you had ten of the tallest Glacier Goliaths standing one on top of the other's head, they would still be submerged by the treasures."

A cold, mocking sneer curled the corner of Ji Chang's mouth; he had never deigned to respect the beliefs of the people of Nanzhao. Yet Tilan's voice possessed a hypnotic magic. He remained silent, letting her finish this tale passed down for a millennium.

"The deities sat within their frozen palace, recalling the days of remote antiquity when they could still gallop horses across the earth, and burst into tears. The tears of the Dragon Tail God were pearls akin to the morning stars, and every single one that fell to the ground reverberated with an echoing sigh throughout the palace. The echoes stirred tiny ripples that traveled from the depths of the lake to the depths of the sea. Along the way, the ripples turned into wavelets, the wavelets into billows, and the billows rose like mountains only to crash down like mountains, raising a tempest in the skies—that was the White Tide. Every pirate on the Chulao Sea knew just how alluring that treasure was, just as they knew how terrifying the White Tide could be. Countless people, harboring ambition and dreams, set forth to find that palace, but not a single one succeeded. The forests and lakes of Minzhong devour people; many merely went to the lakeside to pluck valerian flowers and lost their lives in the process."

At that moment, Gongye came forward to report that the horses were prepared and they could immediately set out up the mountain to offer sacrifices at the temple. Tilan smiled gently. "I was just telling His Highness King Chang that story of yours."

With that, she bowed her head slightly in farewell, turned with a light, unfettered grace, and walked away. Gongye hurried forward to support her, her eye rims inexplicably flushed red.

The narrow path carved into the rock face leading to the temple was only wide enough for a single person. Attendants and guards all marched in single file on foot, with only two domesticated, nimble, cliff-climbing rock-antelopes serving as mounts for Tilan and Ji Chang. At first, the roaring of the sea waves could still be heard, but halfway up the slope, the only sound left in their ears was the wind rushing like the beating wings of giant birds. The swift wind pushed against people like heavy palms, and whenever orders were passed down the line, everyone had to shout. Even though she had walked this narrow path once before on her initial journey to Nanzhao years ago, as Ji Chang looked down and surveyed the bottom of the precipice, he could not help but feel dizzy and terrified. The waves, which had been half a person's height, now looked merely like a ring of fragmented white borders, and the jagged, interlocked stone beaches were completely invisible, leaving only sea birds crying and soaring beneath his feet. Tang Qianzi held his reins steady, while Gongye held the reins for Tilan's horse. The entire party proceeded with utmost caution, seeking only safe passage. Reaching the cliff top took over two full hours, bringing them to the fourth quarter of the afternoon.

Gazing far into the distance in all directions, to the south lay the shimmering, gold-dust-scattered surface of the sea, where the docks housing the entire royal fleet within Chiran Bay were reduced to a mere hazy white line. To the north, behind the temple, the slender pine trees all grew leaning in the direction of the sea wind—sparse at first, before finally standing straight and dense as they reached lower, wind-sheltered elevations. Clump after clump of gloomy, oily green piled up so densely that not a breath of wind could pass, with only the slightly wider gaps between the trees serving as paths.

The landslide from centuries ago had cleaved the mountain mass cleanly in two, leaving behind only half a temple. It bore no resemblance to the intricate and elaborate architecture of Nanzhao; some said it had been built by an ancient civilization long since extinct, while others claimed it was constructed by the Dragon Tail God herself. The structure was surprisingly simple yet colossal, built entirely from piled-up blocks of pristine white marble without a single inlay or decoration. The embracing marble column bases were carved with dragon-scale patterns, some standing straight up toward the heavens while others lay collapsed upon the ground, partially buried by red sandy soil like the skeletal remains of primeval beasts. The remaining half of the temple stood in lonely desolation, facing the fierce winds and exposing its hollow, solemn chambers.

Twelve masters of ceremonies struck up a song of praise, expressing their willingness to submit in awe to the might of the divinities. The tune was lingering and peculiar, and the language unfamiliar; it was said to have been handed down by sailors who had managed to snatch their lives from the jaws of storms. No matter how clear and serene the midday weather might be, the moment such ethereal singing drifted in from afar, the dead of night would descend upon the mortal realm in the blink of an eye, storm clouds would race across the skies, and eerie ghost-fires would ignite atop the ship masts. That was the song of the Dragon Tail God summoning the tempest.

Reaching out to take Tilan's hand, Ji Chang led her beneath the shelter of the ruined temple's dome, with Tang Qianzi and Gongye guarding their flanks, followed by the attendants who filed in one by one. The hexagonal white marble giant bricks that once paved the floor were largely shattered and missing, exposing the mottled foundation stones beneath, where scattered sunlight cast fractured patches of light and shadow. At the far end of the grand hall, out from those greyish foundation stones, startlingly white marble sea waves towering over two men in height abruptly rose up.

They were carved with such exquisite detail and realism—rolling, boiling, and roaring—that they pursued every single ship daring to venture into the deep seas just as fierce beasts chased their pitiful prey.

At the center of that stationary, giant whirlpool resembling a crown of thorny briers sat the master of the ocean. The statue of the Dragon Tail God worshipped by the nations of the Western Land was a miniature replica of this very figure: she possessed the appearance of a stunningly beautiful woman with her head held high in song, human from the waist up and a dragon-serpent below. Her ears were slender and pointed, and a mass of deep azure, curly hair drifted in strands, as though swaying within invisible water currents. Yet not a single replica could compare to her. She was tall, magnificent, and lifelike, as though reminiscing over the echoes of ten thousand miles of wind and waves within eternal silence.

Before the ten-story-tall seated statue of the Dragon Tail God lay accumulated strings of flowers and fruits, some already withered while others remained fresh. Interspersed among these offerings were tiny pottery urns; when sudden gales blew through, they scattered dust and ashes—the remains of human sacrifices offered to the Dragon Tail God by pirates. Within the temple of the Dragon Tail God, the children of the sea did not engage in strife, so pirates and merchants would unexpectedly offer sacrifices and pray side by side in peaceful coexistence. Yet how the Dragon Tail God would adjudicate those mutually contradictory wishes, no one could tell.

Attendants flowed forward like water to present fruits, fresh flowers, and new wine, while the song of praise drifted melodiously, rising toward the heavens like a thread of blue smoke, endless and unbroken.

Over a hundred people knelt in unison before the divine statue, praying in low voices for peace and security across both nations, tranquility along the maritime borders, eternal harmony for generations, and the absence of the fires of war. Standing at the very front of the crowd, Ji Chang lifted his eyes to gaze disdainfully at the statue before him. Ten years had passed; when he first came here, he was cowardly, childish, and at the mercy of others, but upon leaving, he was no longer the eleven-year-old child of the past. He parted his lips in a silent, rebellious, and mocking grin. What did it matter? Everyone followed behind him, and none could see his expression, while the woman beside him was utterly blind to boot. The stone statue before them was the deity of these foolish commoners, but it certainly was not his. No one could rein him in any longer.

The cadence of the song of praise paused, coming to an abrupt halt, and the singing vanished without a trace like wisps of smoke. The head master of ceremonies promptly straightened his robes, knelt before Tilan and Ji Chang, and reported that the sacrificial rites were concluded.

Nodding, Ji Chang stood up and reached out to support Tilan. At the very moment he bent down, he heard Tilan whispering softly.

"O deities, I beg you to pardon me, and aid me."

The female slave Gongye was likewise about to bend down to assist Tilan. In the dim light facing away from the sun, Ji Chang saw a silent tear drop from the beautiful eyes of the female slave.

Tang Qianzi stood behind them, like a faint and indistinct shadow.