Chapter 137

 

Above the inky black Wei River, snowflakes were flying all over the sky like jade dragon scales. Within this white snow, the red clothes were more like fire, and the back figure gradually fading away.

He suddenly understood, rushed out of the pavilion, and chased after her in the snow.

Her figure was clearly in front of him, yet it seemed so illusory and vague that no matter how hard he tried to chase her, he could never reach her.

She was elusive, like a red pomegranate blossom in May blooming amidst the snow—striking and radiant, yet never truly real.

Though she clearly walked slowly along the snowy banks of the Wei River under the night sky, she seemed instead to drift along the Luo River—her robes billowing, her graceful figure like that of a goddess. She could be seen, yet forever unapproachable.

“Hao’er, Hao’er—”

Finally, after he understood that he might not be able to catch up like this, he desperately called out to the figure in front of him. His voice passed through the vast snow and echoed on the bank of the Wei River in the silent snowy night.

Amid his anxious and fearful calls, she finally responded, stopped in the snow, slowly turned her pretty face, and quietly looked at the figure that was chasing her.

She was always so understanding and would not let him down, even at this moment. With infinite gratitude and turmoil, he finally caught up with her this time, and hugged her tightly in his arms. His burning, desperate kisses fell again and again on the faded scar between her brows, on her snow-cooled eyelids and cheeks, and at last, came to rest on her lips—soft as spring cherry petals.

“Hao’er. Hao’er.”

It felt as though he had lost her long, long ago—so long that the world itself had changed, oceans turning into lands, and land turning into oceans. And now, holding her again he suddenly remembered the scene when he had accompanied his mother to listen to a Dharma lecture at the Ci’en Temple, the first imperial temple of Chang’an. That day, tens of thousands flocked to the temple. Even beyond the mountain gate, crowds pressed in to hear the teachings. The Dharma master sat solemnly atop the Sumeru dais, preaching the Buddha’s words, while the sky was full of flowers. As a child, he had not understood a single word—only that image had imprinted itself deep in his mind. At this moment, he felt as if he had entered the Bodh Gaya Mountain, surrounded by countless flowered canopies, garlands, glowing pearls and crystal vases. Mandala flowers, Mahamandara flowers, Manjushaka flowers, Mahamandaraka flowers, all fell around him like divine rain from the heavens.

Apart from great excitement and joy, he could not say anything else. He could only call her name softly over and over again.

Her bright eyes stared at him for a long time.

“Master Pei, we have clearly already agreed on this. Why are you chasing me again?”

Suddenly, she asked him softly.

He was stunned.

Her voice was soft, but it was like a lion’s roar, a wake-up call.

Along with a feeling of blankness in his heart, all the excitement and joy just now faded away in an instant.

Was it for her? Or was it for the news she had just told him—news that, to him, was nothing short of earth-shattering, perhaps even a kind of joyous revelation?

She took in the confusion on his face, and simply gave a faint smile. Then, with a gentle nod, she turned and walked away once more.

This time, she never stopped, let alone looked back.

The pomegranate shadow disappeared.

The rain of flowers from the sky also disappeared like bubbles.

All that was left before the eyes was a vast expanse of snow.

It turned out to be just a dream.

How could Pei Xiaoyuan have the confidence to chase her like that and force her to stop for him?

That night, after the eunuch had finished telling him the matter and hurried away, he did chase after him. However, as he chased after him, his boots seemed to be entangled in thick snow, and his steps became heavier and heavier.

Finally, he stopped dejectedly behind the trail of footprints she left, and watched the warm sedan chair she was riding went away until it completely disappeared from his sight.

Staring at the person who were gone in the night snow, he couldn’t help but remember another pomegranate shadow.

It was the first time he met her face to face. In the cool spring day in the county governor’s mansion, when she walked leisurely towards him in the courtyard, her pomegranate red skirt left an indelible mark in his eyes.

His mother had been a woman of exceptional beauty—so stunning she could be called peerless. And because she passed away early, in his memory she had only become more ethereal, almost otherworldly. With such a mother as a comparison, any other woman in the world, no matter how beautiful, would pale in comparison in his eyes.

But in over twenty years of his life, she was the first woman whose presence left a trace of light in his gaze. Even after just one night, that faint glow lingered in the still waters of his heart, refusing to fade. It quietly stirred within him, subtly affecting his mood for the entire next day.

Of course, it couldn’t just be because she was also a beauty. What touched him was probably the aura lingering between her eyebrows, as if telling him that she was the woman created by God for him and the one who was most suitable for him.

Later that night, the falling snow outside the pavilion, the falling plum petals, the extinguished stove, and the cooling pepper tea became his last impressions.

He sat alone under the pavilion by the Wei River for a long time until he felt a warm sensation in his injured hand.

It was Jinwuzhui, treading through the snow, who came and nudged its head under the eaves of the pavilion, gently licking him and persistently butting against him. And in that moment, he suddenly recalled the few words she had murmured to the horse before leaving, her arms wrapped around its neck, and he suddenly realized.

His eyes gradually turned red and moist.

How could he not see the tears that fell when she turned her head?

A man, in the end, was no match for a horse.

Jinwuzhui could still gently lick away her tears.

—

The young man’s eyelids fluttered slightly. He slowly opened his eyes.

He was still lying in a tent and woke up from a dream within a dream.

Although the blizzard that had lasted for several days had stopped, the world remained frozen solid. The snow reached up to one’s calves, and in some places, it piled several feet deep. Most of the buildings had collapsed under the weight. A mere felt tent could hardly keep the bitter cold at bay, yet even so, it was far better than sleeping under the open sky. The remaining shelters had been given over to the wounded. He was afraid that Jinwuzhui would get frostbite outside, so he had led the horse into his tent for the night, covering its back with his own cloak to help keep it warm. He had sunk too deeply into sleep to wake on his own; perhaps Jinwuzhui, worried he might have died, had licked him awake.

Now, all sleep had left him. Gathering himself, he rose and gently stroked the horse’s neck in reassurance before stepping out of the tent. By the pale light reflected from the snow, he made his way toward the silhouette of a night watchman standing on the distant wall. Upon reaching him, he quietly instructed the man to rest—he would take the watch in his stead.

The soldier was a local orphan of mixed descent, one who had thrown in his lot with the army and refused to leave no matter what. He had once tended sheep for a noble household, and once, driven by unbearable hunger, he stole a few bites of dog food. When they were about to cut off his hands and feet and skin him for public display, Pei Xiaoyuan’s army arrived and rescued him. From childhood, the boy had longed for Chang’an. He was fifteen or sixteen now—around the same age Pei Xiaoyuan had been when he first joined the army. At this moment, his eyelashes exposed beyond the wrapping of fur were covered with thick frost. The moment he saw Pei Xiaoyuan approaching, he flustered and fumbled in a panic, overwhelmed and awestruck. He refused to leave no matter what. It was not until Pei Xiaoyuan spoke again and ordered him to go down that he thanked him gratefully and jumped down the wall with some joy.

Pei Xiaoyuan looked at the young man’s back, and the corners of his lips twitched slightly.

Only young men who were joining the army for the first time could be so fearless as a newborn calf, even if they were in such a wretched situation.

It was early Eleventh Month of the eighteenth year of Qiande, and more than ten months had passed since he left Chang’an and headed north.

The place where he was now was called Dache City.

This area, together with Guangming City, a thousand miles to the west, was under the jurisdiction of the imperial court as early as the Han Dynasty, and the lingering cultural influence had not fade even to this day. Later, with the frequent rise and fall of dynasties, control over the region was gradually lost. Since the founding of the current dynasty, the imperial court had gained and lost this territory several times over the past century, never fully reclaiming it. After the war in Xifan a few years ago, the imperial court did not forcibly take these two places back for various reasons, so they still belong to Xifan.

Pei Xiaoyuan led his troops here more than a month ago as planned.

The war was fought in three directions almost simultaneously.

In the Jiannan direction, the rebellion was basically quelled in Ninth Month. Yuwen Zhi and Li Dalu played a key role in it, assisting the imperial forces in the counterattack. As soon as Li Yan’s emperor banner was raised, he was forced to withdraw from Jiannan, subsequently lending his support to He Lituo’s expansion.

 

He Lituo relied on the unique advantages of the plateau and once again gathered 300,000 soldiers from all over the country, plus the remnants of the rebels who escaped from Jiannan. Under the guidance of Li Yan, they went north with all their strength to attack Hexi. His goal: to seize control over the region and cut off the imperial dynasty’s western route. This was also the gift Li Yan had promised He Lituo—should he succeed, everything west of Hexi, from Liangzhou, Ganzhou, Suzhou, and Guazhou, to all the tributary states in the Western Regions, would be handed over in full.

This was only the pressure from the south of Hexi. To the north of Hexi, Ashina Asun’er also succeeded in subjugating the other chieftains and was supported by all. He led his troops south. Linghu Gong, who was defending this area, was attacked from both the north and the south and was under great pressure.

Pei Xiaoyuan was stationed in Yuanzhou to resist the attack from another direction of the Xifan army. After many battles, he had firmly established this line of defense. Afterwards, after discussing with Linghu Gong, he decided on a bold strategy and decided to lead his troops out of the pass, go deep into the plateau, and seize and control Dache City.

Dache was called a city, but in truth, it was nothing more than a small square fortress. Its significance, however, lay not in its size but in its strategic location. It straddled two mountain ridge passes and served as the critical supply hub for Xifan’s main army in their campaign against Hexi. To seize control of this position would be to cut off Xifan army’s supply lines. Without provisions, even if their forces reached the designated battlefield, launching a full-scale offensive in the short term would be a futile dream. This, in turn, would relieve the pressure on Linghu Gong in Hexi, allowing him to focus his forces solely on dealing with Ashina to the north.

It was with this in mind that two months ago, Pei Xiaoyuan led a force of twenty thousand men out of Beiyuan Pass—once heroically defended by the Shenhu Army in years past—navigating treacherous terrain to enter the highlands. Relying on his previous combat experience, he pressed forward and ultimately reached this key location.

Dache City was so important that it was naturally heavily guarded, but Pei Xiaoyuan’s army arrived unexpectedly. After a bloody battle, he captured it as expected and cut off the food supply of the Xifan Army.

According to the original plan, once the supply convoy, reinforcements, and another force departed from Yuanzhou arrived at this location—resupplying their provisions—Pei Xiaoyuan would leave a portion of his troops to hold this strategic point and lead the rest northward to Hexi. There, he would rendezvous with Linghu Gong to prepare for the decisive battle. However, plans made by men often fall short of what Heaven ordains.

Just last month, in the Tenth Month, there was heavy snowfall in this area, and the blizzard raged for nearly seven days and seven nights. The supply route from Yuanzhou was reportedly struck by an avalanche, completely blocking the path and cutting off all access for personnel and provisions.

At the same time, under the guidance of the person behind him, He Lituo transferred the 50,000 troops originally planned to be sent to Hexi to recapture Dache City. The siege had been going on for nearly a month.

Fortunately, the news was delivered to the court in time.

The court granted Yuwen Zhi the hereditary succession to his princely title and promoted him to the rank of General Wuping. He was ordered to lead troops from Songzhou in Jiannan, coordinating with He Du—who had already set out—and immediately launch an offensive against the Xifan central capital.

Zhongdu was the central city for the Xifan’s northern campaign. The objective of this maneuver was naturally a classic strategy of besieging Wei to rescue Zhaoa famous Chinese proverb and military strategy, means to attack the enemy's capital to relieve a besieged city, rather than directly attacking the besieging army—to force the Xifan army into a dilemma. In order to protect Zhongdu, they would be compelled to pull back forces from the front.

However, Pei Xiaoyuan had been guarding the city here for nearly a month.

Over in Jiannan, for some reason, there had been no movement so far.

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