Chapter 25

Gu Wan asked him, “Is there any gift you’d like?”

At that moment, Xie Ci was still in a daze. After a while, he replied, “…I’d like to cook you a meal.”

In truth, there was nothing he really wanted. So he had thought to say, cook me a meal. To have the whole family gathered around a table for dinner would be enough. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt it was inappropriate—he shouldn’t be commanding Gu Wan to cook for him. So when the words reached his lips, he changed them to wanting to cook for her.

That was exactly how his thoughts had wandered.

Gu Wan burst out laughing, leaning back and forth. When she saw Xie Ci snap back to himself, looking so embarrassed he seemed ready to bite his own tongue, she laughed even harder. “Come on, let’s go cook!”

After laughing heartily and pounding the table, Gu Wan stood up, took Xie Ci by the hand, and led him toward the small kitchen in the inn.

The horn lanterns hanging under the eaves of the corridor swayed softly, casting a warm, amber glow over the creaking wooden floorboards. The night was tranquil and deep. The two of them crossed the courtyard and entered the small kitchen in the northwest corner.

This time Gu Wan had booked an upper room, complete with a private kitchen and a stock of fresh rice, flour, meat, and vegetables for guests to use. The courtyard was usually reserved for wealthy guests accompanied by servants and guards, but tonight it was empty. The stone steps glowed faintly in the cool moonlight, and the courtyard was silent.

Gu Wan pulled Xie Ci into the small kitchen and lit the lamp. Xie Ci rolled up his sleeves, ready to help, but she stopped him with a smile. “Birthday boys don’t need to work. Today, you get to rest.”

Xie Ci was seated on a small stool, watching Gu Wan brandish the large kitchen knife as she began to scrub the pots, wash the vegetables, knead the dough, and slice the meat. Gu Wan was actually a decent cook. In her previous life, after graduating, she’d lived alone and developed stomach problems; gradually, as she practiced, her culinary skills emerged.

In the mellow glow of the oil lamp, the sound of the knife tapping the cutting board was light and quick. The sizzle of oil in the pan released a savory aroma. Gu Wan made a small pot of braised pork, crisp on the outside and tender within, then sliced homemade noodles into fine threads, cracked two eggs on top, and sprinkled it all with chopped scallion.

Before long, she had prepared three dishes and a soup. A steaming bowl of longevity noodles took pride of place on the small table. There was wine in the kitchen too—Gu Wan tasted it and found it to be sorghum liquor, strong but unadulterated, so she poured out a gourdful.

In the tiny room, under the yellow lamp, the two of them sat across from each other at the little table, still warm from the stove. Xie Ci had thought he wouldn’t care for the rich, oily braised pork, but when he picked up a piece and tasted it, the slightly spicy char and the deep savory flavor exploded on his tongue. His palate—hardened by wind and frost—was instantly awakened. His appetite surged, and he was suddenly ravenous.

It felt as if, in that instant, he had returned from the icy bitterness of hatred and hardship to the bustling warmth of the mortal world.

Xie Ci lowered his head and slurped up some noodles. Under the gentle light, the hardness in his features faded, and the tender warmth on his face brought to mind that sincere youth who, sheltered under the eaves in a torrential rain, had once handed her a steamed bun.

Gu Wan finished her own small bowl of noodles, set down her chopsticks, and watched Xie Ci eat with quiet delight. After a moment, she asked, “Xiao Si, do you have a wish? They say if you make one today, it’ll come true!”

Is that so?

Xie Ci looked at the lamp flame for a long time, then set down his chopsticks, closed his eyes, and prayed earnestly: Today, Xie Ci asks for nothing but this: may my family be safe, may our wrongs be redressed, and may my father, brothers, and dearest kin, now beneath the earth, find peace.

He recited his prayer three times. Gu Wan poured out three bowls of wine; they spilled one on the ground, then raised the remaining two, touched them together, and drained them in a single gulp.

Sorghum wine is strong; after a bowl, his head and ears felt hot. Xie Ci polished off every dish on the table. The two of them stood and made their way back to their rooms, following the half-open wooden corridor to the staircase. The cold wind made his cheeks burn and tingle, and Xie Ci, feeling a little guilty, said, “I never celebrated your birthday.”

Gu Wan thought to herself, I’ve long since forgotten—after all, it isn’t really my birthday. She replied, “How could we have celebrated it in the Governor’s Mansion?”

He fell silent, then asked, “What about you, Guanniang? What do you wish for?”

“What do I wish for?” she echoed. The moon was bright, stars blinking in the crisp night air. Gu Wan tilted her head, considering. “A clear sky, a peaceful and prosperous age?”

She burst out laughing at her own words. The old habits of a police academy graduate ran deep; she had answered reflexively. It sounded so pompous, so naive, she thought, laughing even harder. “Isn’t that awfully pretentious and empty?”

Red to the core, she thought, I’ve been thoroughly brainwashed.

The wind lifted her unbound hair as she laughed, her voice rising into the cold night. Xie Ci paused, then shook his head firmly. “No, not at all!”

All at once, he thought of his father. When Xie Ci looked back on his father now, all he remembered was good. As a child, he’d feared, respected, and resented his father, yet always looked up to him with profound admiration. Tonight, he suddenly understood: in Xie Xinchong’s very bones and soul, there was this same shining thing.

“All right, let’s go. Time for bed!” Gu Wan finished laughing and ushered Xie Ci toward the wooden stairs. But truly, well-being for all is the greatest blessing.

A land in ruin, people in misery—that would be too terrible. She only wished to be an ordinary person in peaceful times; if everyone else was suffering unspeakably, how could she enjoy good fortune next door without it catching in her throat?

She patted Xie Ci’s shoulder. So you must do your best, brother!

The two of them, one after another, asked the attendant for an extra room, climbed to the third floor, and stopped in front of their doors. “All right, get some sleep. We’ll take turns on watch—I’ll call you in the middle of the night.”

Gu Wan stuffed Madam Xun’s second letter, as well as those from the other sisters-in-law, into his hands and pushed him into his room to rest.

The moonlight was bright, falling like gauze over the eaves and rooftops, casting a silvery square on the floor before his bed through the half-open window.

Xie Ci lay on the bed, opened the envelope, and slowly read through the letters. The neat, delicate script was gentle and elegant. They wrote that Xiao Si’s birthday was near, and asked Gu Wan to comfort him often. The sheets of paper, large and small, lay spread in the moonlight beside his pillow. Earlier, Gu Wan had also said, “Vengeance must be sought, but don’t let the past bind you.”

Taking a deep breath, Xie Ci carefully folded the letters and pressed them to his heart. He recalled what had been said the other day—“Hey, Xiao Si, it’s up to you now. You must secure a place for our family to stand and survive!”

On his seventeenth birthday, on this silver-mooned night, he suddenly understood the meaning of the words: life still has so much more to offer.

His heart was heavier now, but in another way, it felt as if something had loosened. So many conflicting feelings—he could not put them into words. But on the whole, he felt lighter than before.

Xie Ci wrapped the letters in oiled paper, tucked them into his small leather pouch, and lay down once more. The crescent moon hung in the sky as he gazed at the silvery moonlight, and thought of Gu Wan.

He tossed and turned for a while, unable to sleep. At last, he pulled out the silver chain at his neck—not to look at the note this time, but at the delicate silver clasp.

He realized he’d been behaving oddly. Whenever he was with Gu Wan, his emotions would surge unexpectedly—his heart would race or miss a beat for no reason at all.

It made him uncomfortable, but it also brought a strange happiness, quietly blooming from some unknown crevice. He snapped the silver clasp open and closed for a long time, until at some point, sleep overtook him.

In his dreams, he saw his mother, sisters-in-law, brother, nephews and nieces, even his father and brothers who had passed. And there was Gu Wan. She smiled, and so did they; everyone gathered around him, celebrating his seventeenth birthday.

With the strong sorghum wine still in his belly, Xie Ci enjoyed a rare, restful night.

As for Gu Wan, at this moment she was leaning against the window frame, sitting atop the sill.

Beside her sat the wine gourd she’d carried up from below. Looking out, she saw the moon’s pale glow spilling over rooftops and treetops, down alleyways and streets, and across the eaves at her feet—a vast sweep of cold, pure silver.

She stretched out her hand, catching that silvery light. Soft, yet real.

Gu Wan sighed. At first, she couldn’t help feeling as if she’d loaded a new game—none of it seemed real. But by now, she knew, with absolute clarity: it was all true.

She had made her home in this era.

She had never dared dwell on this before, because she’d been happy in the modern world. But at this moment, she resolved to let go of the past, to live actively and earnestly, just as before.

Now she had new family, too.

And in this way, she could continue a life that was meaningful, if not quite ordinary. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

Gu Wan shook her head vigorously, then poured out two cups of wine from the gourd—one she drank herself, gazing at the moonlit sky, and the other she poured, trickling, over the eaves outside.

This one’s for that unlucky soul who got hit on the head!

She looked up at the moon.

At dawn, a thin layer of golden light painted the windowsill. A few sparrows hopped and chirped nearby.

There was no trace of last night left on Gu Wan’s face; bathed in the morning sun, she was radiant, like the first light of day. With the end of the year approaching, the streets and alleys were already bustling. After washing up and eating, the pair left the inn, made their way through winding lanes, and arrived at the gate of a second courtyard.

Luo Qian was already carrying two bundles on his back. On the steps before the main hall, Xun Xiao was staring coldly at Xie Ci.

The once high-spirited, horseback-riding young lord now wore a dark, fitted jacket with tied sleeves, standing by the yellow wall with a patch of lingering snow. His expression had settled into calm maturity—he had grown up, and quickly.

Of course, Xun Xiao thought with a cold smile, who wouldn’t, after a single night?

“If you want to know the details of the treason case, come with me,” he said icily.

He strode out of the little yellow-walled courtyard and over to the inn at the alley’s mouth. Luo Qian had already brought out two fast horses. Xun Xiao took the black one and mounted swiftly, galloping away at speed.

Xie Ci and Gu Wan followed close behind.

They crossed the Funiu Mountains, circled around the state’s checkpoint, exited the pass, and then looped back to the foot of Fei Mountain outside Suzhou.

The rolling ridges were patched with brown, yellow, and white, covered in withered grass. Beneath the blind side of Suzhou’s largest beacon tower, Xun Xiao pointed with his whip. “See there? Fifty miles north is a small stone town called Su Po.”

Beyond the pass, where the border of the Northern Rong kingdom lay, there was a large mixed settlement—Han Chinese, herders, Qiang, Di, and other mixed-blood tribes. Living off the land, some gathered in villages, some migrated with the seasons, herding and hunting for a living. But whenever war broke out, they would flee in droves.

Contrary to imagination, beyond the pass it wasn’t all endless desert—many places still had decent grass and water.

Plenty of caravans risked the journey, too.

And so, many unsavory deals were made easier.

Two years ago, at the end of the year, Uncle had written that some Northern Army garrisons were secretly trading salt, tea, sugar, cloth, even iron weapons to the Northern Rong tribes!

The latter were strictly forbidden by imperial decree—tantamount to treason. It was brazen madness!

Xie Xinchong had been furious, and personally began investigating. In the end, he uncovered a vast and shadowy smuggling network.

He obtained solid evidence and came to Suzhou himself, leading troops out of the pass to capture the smugglers.

What happened next was recorded, at least in outline, in the main case files.

But after Xie Xinchong led his men out, he was accused of being the mastermind behind the entire operation. The net, they said, had been opened by him! In the end, twelve generals testified, and the charge was sealed: treason.

Xun Xiao knew these events in detail, but before all this had even played out, he himself had fallen into an inferno—his mother died suddenly, and he was engulfed by flames.

The north wind was like a blade, scraping cheeks and neck. Gu Wan’s eyes watered from the cold.

Amid all that bleak whiteness, Xun Xiao gave a short, bitter laugh. His hoarse voice dripped with scorn. “See? All of it—here.”

Snow blanketed the endless grassland, the setting sun a bloody red. “Your father was gravely wounded here. Your eldest brother died on the spot.”

His laughter was harsh and grating, each word reconstructing the past. Xie Ci did not move.

He stood alone on the wind-whipped steppe, gazing over the withered yellow and dead white, lifeless as far as the eye could see.

Exactly like that scene a year and a half ago, which had changed his life forever.

He remained there for a long time, until he sensed Gu Wan beside him.

Gu Wan hesitated to speak, standing by his side for ages. When the campfire was lit and the water had boiled, she finally carried over a clay pot. “Xie Ci, are you all right?” she asked gently.

Xie Ci took the pot, but shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

He led Gu Wan a few steps away, crouching behind a windbreak. It was cold. He handed her the hot water; after she finished, he gulped down the rest and tossed the pot into the snow.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m all right.”

Yes, Xie Ci had long known things would turn out this way; only now he understood the details, the origins of this so-called treason and smuggling ring.

“I’ve known for a long time.”

As for his eldest brother, he said softly, “It could hardly be worse than losing his head.” At first, he’d thought dying in battle against the Northern Rong would be a good end.

Xie Ci took a deep breath, quickly digesting it all, fingers absently stroking the clasp at his neck for a moment. Then he said, “Guanniang, I plan to recall the Xie family guards.”

His resolve to restore his family’s power burned even brighter.

If Xun Rongbi had his own loyal guards, then of course the Xie family—generals for generations—had their own. When disaster struck, the Xie family guards were scattered and battered, but those stationed elsewhere would surely have survived.

Before, beset on all sides, he’d been too wary to trust. But now, as soon as the thought occurred, it felt natural to call them back.

Gu Wan perked up instantly. She knew of the Xie family guards! She even knew they were truly loyal—in the original timeline, those who had survived kept searching for Xie Ci for years, refusing to believe he was dead, until his sudden reappearance.

Her voice grew excited. “Great! How will you recall them?”

Of course, Xie Ci couldn’t do it openly. Even now, he remained cautious. “If they are truly loyal, they’ll have sensed what’s happening in Suzhou and will find their way to us.”

Gu Wan thought it over and agreed—after all, they didn’t even know where the guards were now.

After discussing this, Xie Ci finally revealed some worry, taking out the two letters he’d opened the night before.

At the end, Madam Xun and Xie Mingming, as well as all the sisters-in-law, said they were coming to the northwest—if family could not be together, they would at least stand watch over each other. There was no reason for one to suffer while the rest enjoyed peace.

After dealing with Xun Rongbi, Xie Ci and Gu Wan had written to Second Sister-in-law—first, to explain the truth; most importantly, to urge her to be wary.

But Second Sister-in-law replied quickly, saying Madam Xun already knew about Xun Rongbi’s accusations against the Xie family. This was, by now, common knowledge in the streets and even in storytellers’ mouths. After so long, it could not be hidden any more. The details at home were left unsaid, but in the end, Second Sister-in-law had told the whole family what had happened.

Madam Xun was grief-stricken, but in the end, the whole family decided to head north—they would not leave Xie Ci to bear this alone. First Madam Xun and Xie Mingming, and at last, even Second Sister-in-law relented.

At first, the family had thought it would be difficult but manageable. Who could have guessed how dangerous and isolating it would prove for Xie Ci and Gu Wan?

Xie Ci handed the letters to Gu Wan for safekeeping. Madam Xun and Second Sister-in-law wanted him to provide an address, but he refused. “They don’t need to get involved. I can handle this myself.”

The snow stretched on, the sunset fading. Xie Ci turned back; his young, handsome face was cast in snow and twilight, radiating a stunning resolve.

“I can do this!” he declared.

“My father and brothers lived lives of loyalty and integrity—there was not a single stain on their honor. I believe I can do this!” As long as the foundations were sound and the accusations false, in time he would clear their names and win back justice.

Gu Wan was about to speak when footsteps crunched in the snow behind them. Xun Xiao’s cold, mocking voice called out, “The righteous path is always full of grief.” Justice alone is not enough.

Irritated, Xie Ci sprang to his feet.

The two faced each other, cold and unyielding.

Xun Xiao’s eyes were icy as he regarded Xie Ci. “I know you want to restore your family’s power. But can you really do it?”

If Xie Ci truly could gather the Xie family’s old followers, Xun Xiao would find it worthwhile to act alongside him.

“The real masterminds behind this smuggling ring—I haven’t found them. You won’t find them from the outside. But I am certain this is a vast network, involving more than a single person’s interests. There must be one or more highly placed military figures behind it.”

“Twelve generals—six were your father’s closest men. Among those, three have truly betrayed you; another’s only son was kidnapped; another was framed in a honeytrap; the last was caught in corruption.”

“Besides those six, there were a few who were fiercely loyal to your father—unyielding to the death.” Two of them still held considerable military power. “But one is already dead. The other—he’s not dead yet, but he’s close.”

Smeared with filth, framed—once you pull this thread, all those connected will fall.

The Qin family is now on the verge of collapse. If they can’t be rescued, they’ll be finished soon.

Xun Xiao fixed Xie Ci with a sharp look. “If you want to restore your power, you’d better hurry. Start here.” If you wait any longer, it’ll be too late.

Xun Xiao’s features twisted, his brows arching like a vengeful ghost in the twilight—frightening up close, though Gu Wan was not afraid. Instead, her heart skipped a beat. “Qin family—which Qin family?” Suddenly she remembered: wasn’t Second Sister-in-law’s maiden family named Qin?

Xun Xiao gave a cold laugh. “That’s right. The very Qin family you’re thinking of.”