“Imperial decree arrives! Qinghuai Marquis Mansion’s Xiao Nanhui, receive the decree!”
The resounding voice pulled Xiao Nanhui from her hungover stupor. She managed a sluggish roll, feeling as though a burning coal were lodged in her stomach. Her clothes were still the ones she had been drinking in the night before, and she had only removed one boot. She tumbled headfirst out of bed, and was still half-dazed when Dujuan dragged her out of the room — she had already knelt on the ground before it registered that she was supposed to receive a decree.
“Is this Xiao Nanhui, Squad Leader Xiao?”
The palace attendant cast a sidelong glance down at her, confirming a second time that this disheveled, improperly dressed woman before him was indeed the person to whom he was to read the decree.
Xiao Nanhui tried to answer in a clear voice, but her throat produced a ragged croak: “It is.”
Ugh — what were the proper etiquette rules for receiving a decree again? This couldn’t count as showing disrespect to the Emperor, could it?
Hold on — why was there an imperial decree? And it was addressed not to Xiao Zhun but to her? Could it be that the young man from the Chancellor’s manor, having benefited, was now going around boasting about it before the Emperor and saying something?
Xiao Nanhui recalled Xiao Zhun’s warning to her in the military camp yesterday, and a chill settled in her heart. On the carriage ride back, she had actually said some unflattering things about the Emperor — what had she said, exactly?
Xiao Nanhui waited in uneasy apprehension. The burning in her stomach turned to cold sweat sliding down her temple. The palace attendant reading the decree, on the other hand, was taking his leisurely time fiddling with it.
Tiancheng’s imperial decrees were sealed with three jade fasteners, which were to be removed one by one during the reading to demonstrate that no one had broken the seal since the Emperor personally brushed the decree.
“Xiao Nanhui of Qinghuai Marquis Mansion, receive this decree. Xiao has served with tireless dedication — a distinguished example for the court. She is courageous in eliminating enemies and has slain hundreds, conducting herself with integrity and dealing with others uprightly. She bears an ambitious resolve to recover lost territories and revive the military. Therefore, she is hereby specially appointed to the position of Right General of the Guangyao Camp, awarded one hundred taels of gold and one set of Guangyao armor. Respectfully received.”
Xiao Nanhui stood listening in a daze, and only after a moment’s pause did she accept the decree and bow.
“Your subject receives the decree and gives humble thanks for the Emperor’s grace.”
“Congratulations, General Xiao — officially ranked at the fourth rank, senior grade. Choose an auspicious day to enter the palace and offer thanks in person.”
The palace attendant and his retinue departed in a grand procession. Xiao Nanhui still stood in place, not yet having recovered her composure.
The Emperor had actually raised her rank and awarded her gold?
“Hey, why are you standing there in a daze? The Emperor’s giving you gold — aren’t you happy?” Dujuan carefully lifted that tray of gleaming gold, already beginning to calculate in her heart how to put this money toward household expenses. “I was startled this morning when they said someone had come from the palace — I thought you’d gone and caused trouble again. Who knew you’d actually earned some merit. Why didn’t you say anything before? You had me scolding you for nothing.”
“Dujuan — doesn’t the title Right General sound somewhat familiar to you?”
Dujuan’s mind was clearly elsewhere, playing with the one hundred taels of gold, her face lit up with delight: “Does it? I’d never heard it before. Never mind the title — a general is a general.”
Had the Tiancheng dynasty ever had a position called Right General? It seemed not. But why did she feel as though she had heard something similar very recently?
“Who is Left General now? Is it General Yu?” She recalled that Yu Jin had long held that post, and that he and Xiao Zhun had perpetually disagreed on military strategy — yet lately she hadn’t heard any news of the two of them clashing.
“Old General Yu Jin? I don’t think so — a while back the people at the medicine hall were saying he came down with rheumatism. After long treatment with no improvement, the Emperor gave him permission to retire and return to his hometown. But a second son from Duke Xuanyuan’s family was appointed Left General in his place. Oh right — you were still in Huozhou at the time, so you probably didn’t hear. Do you remember the second son from Duke Xuanyuan’s household? I recall you met him briefly when you were children. Oh my, I saw him when he returned to the city the other day, and he looks absolutely nothing like he did as a boy. Men really do change so much as they grow up…”
Dujuan was still chattering away, but Xiao Nanhui had long since let it go in one ear and out the other.
Su Pingchuan — Duke Xuanyuan’s second legitimate son, eighteen years old this year, two years younger than she was.
Ten years ago, she had knocked out one of his front teeth in his family’s back garden.
Of course she remembered that.
Could that be called a “brief meeting”? That was more like a grudge over a tooth.
She also remembered that she had seen him just a few days ago.
And she had actually gone up to him shamelessly and asked: did he recognize her?
Looking back on it now — of course he recognized her.
In Tiancheng, left held higher precedence than right, which meant Su Pingchuan outranked her by one grade. The two now served in the same camp in similar positions, and would inevitably be crossing paths day after day.
Well, this was just perfect. On top of Xu Shu, she now had another headache-inducing addition.
Xiao Nanhui gave a bitter smile. Was this Emperor truly not doing this on purpose?
Right at this moment, Xiao Zhun stepped into the courtyard, still wearing his court robes — he had evidently come straight back from the palace.
“Foster Father, the Emperor promoted me…”
Yet Xiao Zhun’s face held not a trace of joy, only a mild nod: “I know. I just ran into that palace attendant on my way here.”
Xiao Nanhui seemed to remember something and asked with slight unease: “That palace attendant told me to go to the palace and give thanks. Should I prepare anything? When should I go? Do I need to give advance notice or anything…”
“Don’t worry — I’ll have Chencai get everything in order.”
Just then, Chencai came in with quick steps, looking at Xiao Nanhui with a helpless expression.
“Miss, Master Yao has been waiting at the back gate for the better part of two hours. He just sent word — meet at the Fengzi Teahouse on West Street. If you don’t go, he says don’t bother seeing him ever again.”
Xiao Nanhui’s complexion instantly paled, as fragments of the previous night’s memory began surfacing. Yaoyi was an extremely petty person, and that floor plan of the Zou Family residence looked to be something of great value. If she didn’t go and make amends, there would certainly be consequences.
“Foster Father, I’ll be back shortly.”
Xiao Nanhui moved hastily toward the door. Dujuan hurried to keep up, all the while reaching out to tidy the other woman’s disheveled hair: “If you go out looking like that, don’t say you’re from this household. At least wash your face first…”
The sound of their voices gradually faded into the distance. Xiao Zhun remained standing where he was.
Chencai’s hands rested lightly inside his sleeves. After a long moment, he spoke softly: “My lord, a promotion and some good fortune — it isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
Xiao Zhun said nothing.
He had indeed petitioned the Emperor to transfer Xiao Nanhui into the Guangyao Camp, but he had absolutely not requested any merit or rank on her behalf.
He had understood long ago that the higher one climbs, the more exposed to danger one becomes.
The Emperor’s mind had always been as deep and unfathomable as a still pool. He could only hope that, as Chencai said, it was all just his own baseless conjecture.
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