Chapter 80

“Your servant Qiu Mingyan pays respects to Her Majesty the Empress and Princess Yong’an.”

After bowing, Lord Qiu straightened his back, kept a stern expression, and continued, “It’s not my place to speak on how the ladies of the harem pass time enjoying opera performances, but the opera troupe is quite close to the court. While Your Majesty were watching the show, the grand officials of the front court were also forced to listen all morning. Now that the Grand Tutor is battling on the front lines, yet harmony and merrymaking reign in the rear palace like this. I fear… it may be inappropriate.”

Empress Shen immediately looked flustered upon hearing this.

Thinking of her husband still lying ill in bed, while she herself was watching an opera, guilt caused a flush to rise to her cheeks.

“What Lord Qiu says is very true. From now on, I shall issue a decree to curb the indulgent atmosphere of entertainment in the inner palace.”

Lord Qiu verbally thanked the Empress, but out of the corner of his eye, he glanced toward Princess Yong’an, who stood quietly to the side.

She kept her head slightly lowered, docile and respectful, and even when hearing his admonishment, showed not a trace of royal arrogance.

This was the kind of humility befitting a young lady, quite different from her brother the Emperor, who smiled with hidden barbs and was razor-tongued.

After Empress Shen spoke, she left the palace courtyard with her sister-in-law Princess Yong’an.

However, Eunuch Ruan did not leave right away.

He stepped forward and bowed to Lord Qiu with a smile.

“Lord Qiu, this humble one greets you.”

Lord Qiu nodded, unsure of what the Chief Eunuch of the Inner Court wanted to say.

“Lord Qiu,” Eunuch Ruan began, still smiling, “rest assured that I will remember every word you said just now. But… before leaving, the Grand Tutor gave repeated instructions to this humble one that the Princess must not be left to suffer boredom in the palace. That’s why the opera troupe was invited today. If it disturbed the serenity of the court, it was a lapse in my judgment. I ask your pardon. It’s just that, in front of the Princess, your words were quite harsh. If it soured her mood, my job will only get harder! Perhaps… in the future, if something seems improper, Lord Qiu could first inform me. I’ll be sure to handle it carefully. But please don’t scold her so directly again. Otherwise, if the Grand Tutor returns and finds the Princess pale and withdrawn, and gets upset… I’ll be the one to suffer his rebuke!”

Qiu Mingyan raised an eyebrow in surprise.

The Grand Tutor would really give such petty instructions? But then again, Eunuch Ruan wouldn’t dare use the Marquise of Dingguo’s name as a shield without good reason.

After Eunuch Ruan bowed again with his smile that didn’t reach his eyes and finally left, Qiu Mingyan remained standing there, unmoving for a long time.

What kind of feelings does the Grand Tutor hold… to treat Princess Yong’an, who looks exactly like the Emperor, with such indulgent affection?

In Qiu Mingyan’s heart, the Grand Tutor was a towering monument, an unreachable role model.

Every passionate young man needed someone to admire, and Qiu Mingyan considered himself fortunate.

Unlike others who had to revere the long-dead heroes in books, his idol was real and living.

The Grand Tutor’s legend was there for all to see, a beacon for every hot-blooded youth of Great Wei.

It was that admiration that led Qiu Mingyan to stubbornly shave his head and run away from home, sneaking off to the northern barracks of the Black Banner Army while preparing for the imperial exams.

When his family later fell into disgrace, it was the Grand Tutor who stood up to the powerful Minister Rong’s persecution and saved his life.

That man was his savior.

To him, Lord Wei Lenghou was the guiding star of his life, the northern star in a dark sky.

Helping such a hero ascend the throne was the great mission of his life.

But now, before that ambition was realized, it seemed the Grand Tutor had already sunk into the warmth of a woman’s affection.

Qiu Mingyan could not help but feel alarmed and uneasy. Could it be that cunning Emperor egged his own sister on to seduce the Grand Tutor?

Lord Qiu’s words had shaken Empress Shen, reigniting her determination to be a virtuous Empress and not become a burden to her already struggling husband.

With the Emperor gravely ill and unwilling to see her, fearing she might catch his illness, she had no one to consult.

So, she turned to Princess Yong’an, planning to gather palace maids and wives of officials to sew cloth shoes for the soldiers at the front.

These shoes typically passed through the hands of a dozen women.

The stitching didn’t need to be particularly strong, what mattered was that noble ladies had handled them.

That alone would boost morale, inspiring soldiers to charge into battle with vigor.

And if they lost? Well, at least the shoes might help them run like the wind.

Making these “divine shoes” was a wartime tradition in Great Wei.

With Princess Yong’an unable to object to such a time-honored custom, Empress Shen excitedly wrote out the invitations.

But her plans were quickly thwarted when Eunuch Ruan intercepted the invites.

“Per the Grand Tutor’s orders,” he said, “Her Majesty must rest and maintain her health. She should not be meeting women from outside the palace.”

The whole arrangement fell apart in an instant.

In the end, Empress Shen could only repeatedly instruct Princess Yong’an to receive the noble ladies on her behalf.

It had been over a year since she had last done handicrafts with the women of various court families.

She remembered the Lantern Festival, when they made head lanterns together.

Back then, she was a mere ornament in the hall, ignored by all.

Leisurely watching the ladies scheme against each other had actually been quite entertaining.

But this time, she had become the main focus of a gathering full of noblewomen, and she wasn’t quite used to the feeling of being the center of attention.

Just like now, she had just taken the cotton thread from her maid and tried to stitch, but one needle had gone crooked, forming a strange curve across the shoe’s surface.

The Minister of Rites’ wife immediately widened her eyes and pursed her plump lips with a tut-tut.

“Her Highness the Princess is truly talented. What a unique stitching style! Not as rigid as ours. I must learn this from the Princess.”

The other ladies weren’t to be outdone and craned their necks to look over, all nodding in admiration at the awkward needlework.

“Indeed! How elegant. Let’s all follow the Princess’s example…”

Looking at the now increasingly crooked stitches forming on everyone’s shoe uppers, Nie Qinglin could only weep inwardly:

Soldiers at the border, I’ve wronged you… I just hope your soles don’t fall off when you charge into battle!

After the flattery died down, the ladies began gossiping about the war in the southern frontier.

Oddly enough, they seemed to know more than she did, even though she lived in the palace.

At the very least, it was through the mouths of these high-ranking officials’ wives that Nie Qinglin finally learned the Grand Tutor had been injured.

When the Minister of Rites’ wife vividly described how the Grand Tutor had been bitten by a venomous snake and how the Princess of the Southern frontier, who was acting as a guide for the army, had fearlessly sucked out the poison with her own mouth to save his life.

Everyone instinctively turned their eyes toward Princess Yong’an, who sat at the head of the gathering.

Realizing she had spoken out of turn, the Minister of Rites’ wife quickly shut her mouth and attempted to change the subject.

But someone more tactless, frustrated at being left hanging at the most intriguing part, blurted out, “Where exactly was the Grand Tutor injured?”

Someone whispered, “I heard… it was at the base of his thigh…”

The women’s hands slowed as their thoughts wandered.

Their minds conjured up images of the heavenly, picturesque Grand Tutor lifting his robes to reveal a strong, bare thigh, steam rising as he sat there, while the beautiful and bewitching princess knelt beneath him, her mouth slowly drawing the poison out, one breath at a time…

Several of the ladies lost focus and pricked their fingers, their startled cries echoing one after another.

Nie Qinglin let out a tiny breath of relief…so she wasn’t the only one clumsy with a needle.

Without drawing attention to herself, she quietly popped her bleeding finger into her mouth, sucked at the wound, and handed the half-finished shoe to the maid beside her.

“I’ve done enough of this. You may finish the rest.”

With that, she got up to return to her palace for a rest.

Just then, the Minister of War’s wife remarked, “Ah, so he was injured. No wonder the frontlines have been suffering defeats…”

Nie Qinglin paused mid-rise, her delicate brows slightly furrowed.

So Lord Qiu’s earlier remark about the dire situation on the front lines hadn’t been empty scaremongering for the harem’s sake.

It was true.

The Grand Tutor had indeed suffered two defeats in a row.

The reasons behind the losses were frustratingly clear.

The northern fleet’s warships were too refined.

While they performed excellently on wide rivers and open seas, in the wetland-heavy terrain of the southern frontier, they were like mighty dragons stranded in shallow waters.

Yet if they tried switching to bamboo rafts like the southern troops used, most northern soldiers lacked the balance and skill to steer them, making it nearly impossible to maneuver effectively on water.

The Grand Tutor made a snap decision and ordered a retreat, withdrawing from naval combat.

Meanwhile, the Southern King, emboldened by his two consecutive victories, advanced with wild arrogance.

He quickly annexed two border counties and pushed right up to the Prince Lingnan’s territory.

Now, the opportunistic Prince Lingnan, ever the fence-sitter, concluded that Lord Wei Lenghou, a fierce land warrior, had lost the upper hand in the water-ruled south, and so he publicly switched allegiances, declaring himself a supporter of Wei’s rightful heir and calling Lord Wei a treasonous rebel.

He vowed to purge the rebel leader and restore Great Wei’s true order.

As a result, the Lingnan regional troops joined the chaotic conflict against the Grand Tutor’s army.

For a time, southern morale soared.

Though the Grand Tutor’s leg injury had not healed, the turmoil in his heart now far outweighed the pain in his body.

Nie Qinglin didn’t hear the full details at the gathering, but with her sharp instincts and quick mind, she had already deduced most of it.

Her heart heavy, she returned to Fengchu Palace.

As she passed by the lake, she noticed that the lotus flowers had withered past their prime.

Little boats drifted across the water as palace workers pruned the remaining wilted lotuses and scooped out dried leaves.

Feeling restless, Nie Qinglin wasn’t in a hurry to return.

She found the workers’ method of cleaning rather amusing and stopped to watch.

But the boats were unlike any she had seen in the palace before.

Their hulls were wrapped with strange vines, and the workers maneuvered them between pavilions and stone pillars on the lake.

Even when the boats bumped against the pillars, they moved with steady balance, as if an invisible hand was holding them in place.

A thought stirred in Nie Qinglin’s mind.

She ordered Nanny Shan to summon one of the palace workers gathering leaves and asked, “Why are there branches tied to the boats?”

The worker, hearing the princess speak, panicked.

Afraid he had made some grave mistake and replied nervously, “Your Highness, every year around this time, the wind over the lake becomes fierce. The work boats become unstable and often capsize. So this humble one remembered an old method from back home, these are called Stabilizing Water Vine. I had a few bundles brought from my hometown and tied them to the boats to add weight, making them harder to tip over.”

“Stabilizing Water Vine…” Nie Qinglin repeated.

“The name sounds like they should weigh the boat down. But won’t it make the boat harder to move?”

“Your Highness, that’s the wonder of these vines! They grip the water but are extremely light. They float on the surface and move smoothly without resistance…”

Although Lord Wei frequently sent letters by messenger pigeon, Princess Yong’an had never once written back.

But now, for the first time, she picked up a brush and personally penned a letter, enclosing it with a bundle of those strange vines and had them sent together to the Grand Tutor’s military command in the Southern Frontier.

At that moment, Princess Qike was carrying a jar of medicine, preparing to personally change the dressing on the Grand Tutor’s injured leg.

Just a few days prior, the Grand Tutor had been bitten by a venomous snake raised by the Southern Frontier’s snake-wielding soldiers.

Fortunately, the Princess and Lu Yuda were accompanying him at the time as he surveyed the mountain terrain.

When Qike hurried over to check the injury, she had instinctively leaned forward, ready to use her mouth to suck out the venom.

However, the Grand Tutor pushed her away and instead ordered Lu Yuda, who was beside them, to perform the task.

For the safety of his commander, Lu Yuda had willingly offered up his pure, unsullied lips.

But during the treatment, kneeling between the commander’s legs, bent over his muscular frame, listening to the Grand Tutor’s strained breathing from the snake venom and the involuntary gasps as Lu Yuda sucked the wound, that vivid, awkward moment became something the fierce General Lu of the Black Banner Army would rather never recall for the rest of his life.

Later, when other soldiers asked who had treated the Grand Tutor, Lu Yuda evasively claimed it was Princess Qike.

After all, only the three of them were present…no one would dare confront the Princess or the Grand Tutor to verify it.

But thanks to this, imaginations ran wild among the male-dominated army, already starved for female company.

Rumors quickly spread that the Southern Princess and the Grand Tutor must be involved.

When Princess Qike heard these rumors, her heart fluttered with a secret sweetness.

The longer she spent around the Grand Tutor, the more obsessed she became with this cold and aloof yet strikingly handsome man.

She had once imagined that a man like him would only take a concubine of exceptional beauty.

But when she met the Third Madam of the Wei household back in the capital..undeniably beautiful, yes but she still felt that she herself was superior.

After some deliberate inquiries, she learned that the third madam was gentle and matched the Grand Tutor’s temperament well.

If even such an ordinary woman could enter the Wei household as a concubine, then why couldn’t she, a woman of both beauty and talent?

In that moment, Princess Qike’s fighting spirit soared.

She knew that one major obstacle was her identity.

But she had already made up her mind: once the Grand Tutor conquered the Southern Frontier, she would give up the throne of the Southern King…a position she could easily inherit and willingly become a concubine in his household as a sign of her sincere affection.

Once that doubt was removed, surely the Grand Tutor would accept her, right?

As for that Princess of Great Wei… Qike didn’t take her seriously in the slightest.

The girl was pretty, yes…much like her own dazzling imperial brother but her status was even more awkward than Qike’s.

How could a man with ambitions to rule the world truly love someone like her?

A man like Wei Lenghou was like an unattainable mountain peak, no woman was worthy of standing beside him as an equal.

But she, a grand princess of the Southern Frontier, had been assisting her father in governing since the age of thirteen.

Her vision, her strategic mind…none of it was second-rate.

How could that delicate, weak, ignorant little princess from Great Wei…clinging like a parasitic vine could ever be worthy of such a great man?

Thinking this, Princess Qike only grew more confident, and resolved to put aside her pride and emulate the gentle care shown by the Third Madam, tending to the Grand Tutor’s daily needs with utmost patience and tenderness.

But the Grand Tutor was clearly irritated, brushing away her outstretched hands in annoyance.

If not for the fact that the various Southern tribes still needed her presence to unite them, he truly would have thrown her out of the tent.

Just as he was about to lose his temper and act on it, a letter from Guo’er arrived, and his mood eased ever so slightly.

He coldly ordered Qike to leave, then unrolled the letter.

Inside, there was no text, only a drawing….a small, uniquely designed boat.

It resembled a miniature version of the Crimson Horse Boat, a type of military craft known for racing across water as swiftly as a horse galloping on land.

The Grand Tutor chuckled inwardly.

So Guo’er couldn’t sit still even in the rear palace and had started meddling with naval engineering?

He had been wracking his brain over a solution for waterborne battles these past few days.

Of course he had considered using Crimson Horse Boats.

But while fast, those boats had glaring flaws: their steep hulls made them prone to damage.

The Southern soldiers were all expert swimmers and if a fight broke out in the water, Great Wei’s soldiers would be like wolves tossed into a sea full of sharks.

They’d be torn apart with no burial.

That’s why he had already dismissed the idea entirely.

But just as he was about to set the letter aside, something caught his eye—a detail in the drawing.

The Crimson Horse Boat in the sketch… seemed to be wrapped in something…

Seeing this, he stood up and took another look at the vine the messenger had rushed over on horseback, but he couldn’t recognize what kind of plant it was.

So he ordered the soldiers to wind the vine, according to the drawing, around the sides of the boat, then launched it into the water.

As the soldier paddled the small boat, a strong gust of wind blew through.

The other Crimsom Horse boats swayed slightly, but the one wrapped with the vine glided steadily through the water without a wobble.

The Grand Tutor’s eyes lit up.

He then ordered the soldier to steer the Crimsom Horse boat directly toward a large ship.

Amazingly, even after the two boats collided, the small boat bounced away quickly and still floated steadily on the surface.

This stunned not only the soldiers and Princess Qike watching from the riverbank but also made their eyes light up with joy.

Everyone agreed that the Grand Tutor’s solution was simply brilliant!

Suppressing his excitement, the Grand Tutor read the fine, delicate handwriting below the drawing:

“This plant is called ‘Stabilizing Water Vine’. It is a specialty of a place called Yishan Village by the Bishui River in the northwest. The harvest season has already passed, but the locals often use it to build stilted houses over water. If the Grand Tutor finds it useful, he may send people to dismantle buildings there and gather more.”

At this point, it seemed the writer had paused for quite some time.

A drop of ink had fallen onto the paper, later carefully covered with yellow correction powder.

Over this blemish, the writer added:

“I heard that the Grand Tutor was injured. Enclosed is a box of snake salve. If your wound has already been treated, you may keep it for future use.”

Seated in his chair, the Grand Tutor glanced at the note, tapped the table lightly, and picked up the small box of medicine.

When he opened the lid, he saw the smooth, jade-like ointment inside.

He hesitated to reach in, reluctant to disturb its flawless surface.

Little Guo’er’s sincerity was like that soft, curled-up balm inside the box…never taking the initiative to strike out, yet if one were to dig it out forcefully, it would stir a sense of unwillingness in the heart…