A Striking Resemblance to the Late Emperor

Three years later, Liangzhou, border army encampment.

The war between the Great Cheng Dynasty court, the Balindun, and the Cilie Tribe had been fought for three years. At the end of last year, the Khan of the Cilie Tribe was slain on the battlefield. His eldest son inherited the title but was personally killed by his younger brother, Jiang Rong, less than half a month later. Jiang Rong then led his tribe in surrender.

The Balindun people retreated upon hearing the news. The Great Cheng forces pursued them all the way to the Northwest border, where they joined the elite troops stationed in Liangzhou under Prince Jing's command. In a two-pronged pincer attack, they killed nearly ten thousand enemy soldiers. The Balindun Khan, who had personally led his troops, fled back to his den in disarray, having lost his helmet and armor. He was later killed by his own son, and the khanate changed hands. The new Khan of Balindun sent an envoy to sue for peace, which the Great Cheng court accepted, finally bringing the war to an end.

Wen Ying sat outside his tent, drinking with Zheng Mu, who had been promoted from Company Commander to Battalion Commander.

In three years, Wen Ying had been promoted from Platoon Leader to a fifth-rank Garrison Commander, a position now higher than Zheng Mu's. Though their subordinate-superior relationship had been reversed, in private, they were still brothers as before.

Zheng Mu was overjoyed. Drunk and slurring his words, he rambled to Wen Ying, "This goddamn war is finally over. I haven't held my wife in my arms for almost four years."

He then slapped Wen Ying hard on the shoulder. "Have you ever tasted a woman, kid? When we get back, I'll have your sister-in-law find you a good match. A handsome lad like you will surely have a line of young ladies waiting to marry you."

"On second thought, no. General Lin appreciates you so much, you're bound to get another promotion when you go back. Marrying into a minor family would be a waste. An ordinary girl wouldn't be worthy of you. Someone like you, when you go to the capital, you're destined to marry one of those highborn noble ladies."

"If the old Emperor takes a liking to you too, you might even get to marry a princess."

Zheng Mu's talk grew wilder and wilder until he was soon hugging his wine jug, fast asleep on the ground, snoring loudly.

Throughout the military camp tonight, there were many men just like Zheng Mu.

Wen Ying silently took a sip of wine. The moonlight reflected in his eyes, bottomless and deep.

Unexpectedly, he once again recalled that person thousands of miles away. It seemed a long time had passed since he last revisited those memories; even the person's face had become somewhat blurry.

Wen Ying closed his eyes, the pungent taste of wine spreading down his throat.

Later in the night, a personal guard of General Lin Su, Heir of Duke Jing, came over and summoned Wen Ying to Lin Su's tent.

"Go back and prepare. Tomorrow, you will accompany me to see Prince Jing."

Seeing Wen Ying enter, Lin Su said straightforwardly, his face full of joy.

After three years, the war had ended in a great victory. No one was happier than he, the commander-in-chief.

Ever since last year when Wen Ying had personally slain the Khan of the Cilie Tribe on the battlefield and won the highest merit, he had caught Lin Su's eye. Lin Su highly regarded this young man who, at just twenty, was both brave and resourceful, with outstanding military achievements. He was naturally aware that Wen Ying had once been the Jieyuan of Shangjing, later stripped of his title and expelled from the Imperial Academy by the Emperor's own decree. But Lin Su paid it no mind. A hero's past is irrelevant, especially for someone with Wen Ying's character; there was probably more to that incident than met the eye.

Wen Ying didn't ask many questions. He was endlessly grateful that Lin Su was willing to promote him.

Lin Su patted his shoulder. "Behave yourself before the Prince. His Highness most appreciates young and promising men like you. In the future, if the Prince is willing to put in a few good words for you before His Majesty, that little matter from the past will be of no importance."

Wen Ying quickly thanked him.

Early the next morning, Wen Ying, along with Lin Su and several other high-ranking generals, went to Prince Jing's Manor, located in the border city.

Prince Jing's main manor was in Shangjing; this was just an alternate courtyard. Prince Jing had been stationed here for over a decade, and the number of times he returned to the capital could be counted on one hand. It was no different from having settled down here.

The alternate manor in this border city was far less imposing than the grand mansions in Shangjing, but it possessed a stern and majestic air of its own. Wen Ying walked in with the others and, in the main hall, saw the most powerful prince of the Great Cheng Dynasty.

Since coming to the Northwest, Wen Ying had heard people mention this Prince Jing countless times. Prince Jing was the current Emperor's fifth younger brother, a full-blooded brother born of the same mother. He was deeply valued and trusted by the Emperor, held command over a large border force, and was also fiercely loyal to the Emperor.

As all the visitors were military officials, they all greeted him with a military salute. Prince Jing very amiably excused them from the formalities, invited them to be seated, and ordered his servants to bring hot tea and refreshments.

Wen Ying sat in the last seat, silently listening to Lin Su and the others speak with Prince Jing, who sat in the host's seat.

Prince Jing was not yet forty, with a fair complexion and a beard, a rare handsome man. He only bore a thirty or forty percent resemblance to the Emperor, and his temperament was also completely different. Perhaps due to his years of leading troops on the frontier, Prince Jing was very forthright and informal, lacking the arrogant condescension of other imperial clan members.

After about half an hour of conversation, Lin Su brought up Wen Ying, his words filled with effusive, unrestrained praise as he introduced him to Prince Jing.

Wen Ying stood up, took a step forward, and bowed to Prince Jing again. "This subordinate, Wen Ying, pays his respects to Your Highness."

Prince Jing sized him up and smiled. "I've long heard people speak of you. I heard that you were the one who shot an arrow through the old Cilie Khan's chest from a hundred paces. Seeing you today, you are a handsome and outstanding young man of distinguished bearing. Truly remarkable."

"Your Highness overpraises me. It was merely this subordinate's good fortune to have landed that arrow," Wen Ying replied, neither servile nor overbearing, but calm and candid.

Prince Jing smiled and waved his hand. "No need to be overly modest. Your military merit is yours, and no one can take it away. You also performed great service in the encirclement of the Balindun Khan. After returning to the capital, the court will reward you based on your merits. General Lin and I will also report everything truthfully to His Majesty."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Wen Ying said, expressing his sincere gratitude.

At noon, they stayed at Prince Jing's Manor for a banquet.

Fine wine and good food were served one after another. Everyone drank heartily, eating and chatting with abandon.

Wen Ying also ate a considerable amount. After three years of tempering on the battlefield, his frame had become stronger and taller, and he had grown quite a bit. He no longer bore any trace of the frail scholar he once was, and his appetite had naturally grown larger than before.

After three rounds of wine, a maidservant entered with another dish. A platter of steaming roasted meat was placed on Wen Ying's table.

He paid it no mind and was lowering his head to eat when a shadow suddenly flashed before his eyes. Instinctively sensing danger, Wen Ying reacted with extreme speed, dodging to the side. The dagger in the maidservant's hand still pierced his shoulder before she forcefully pulled it out.

The ferocious-looking maidservant, brandishing the blood-stained dagger, lunged forward, intending to strike a second time. Wen Ying had already risen and taken a step back. With a swift kick, he sent the table flying, which blocked the maidservant and sent her tumbling to the ground. Wen Ying kicked her away, and manor guards quickly rushed in to subdue her.

The incident happened in an instant. No one had expected a maidservant in Prince Jing's Manor to turn into an assassin and attack a guest. Prince Jing's face instantly turned ashen.

Wen Ying was taken to a side room to have his wound dressed and bandaged. It was merely a flesh wound. Compared to the numerous injuries, large and small, he had sustained on the battlefield over the past few years, it was truly nothing. During the dressing, aside from a slight frown, he didn't make a sound from beginning to end.

Lin Su watched from the side, unable to help but feel that this Wen Ying was even more resilient than he had previously thought.

Prince Jing came personally to see him. He told them that the maidservant had confessed after only a few questions. She was originally the favorite consort of the old Cilie Khan. With the old khan dead by Wen Ying's arrow, she had fled to the Northwest filled with hatred, infiltrated Prince Jing's manor, and was spurred to revenge upon seeing Wen Ying today.

"In the end, this is all my fault for my lax governance, allowing a spy to infiltrate the manor."

Prince Jing was truly quite annoyed. He had been busy with the war on the front lines and had only just returned to the manor. Furthermore, his consort had taken their several children back to the capital, and neither of the two remaining secondary consorts was competent, which led to this farce.

Seeing the bandage wrapped around Wen Ying's shoulder, Prince Jing felt rather guilty. He walked over and personally offered his apologies. "This Prince bears an undeniable responsibility for this matter. I am truly sorry that you had to suffer this wound for no reason."

As Prince Jing cupped his hands in apology, Wen Ying hastily stood up to avoid it. "Your Highness is too serious. This subordinate is fine. Your Highness need not take such a small matter to heart."

A dignified prince was humbling himself to apologize to a mere fifth-rank official like him. Prince Jing could do it, but he could not accept it.

Because his wound was being bandaged earlier, Wen Ying was only wearing an inner robe. With this movement, the robe was pulled further open. Prince Jing was about to say more when his gaze fell upon a rice-grain-sized blood mole on Wen Ying's chest. He froze, then abruptly raised his eyes to look at him.

Prince Jing's gaze fell on Wen Ying's face, studying him with doubt and astonishment. His expression grew increasingly strange. Wen Ying, somewhat baffled, remained silent.

Seeing this, Lin Su also looked bewildered. "Your Highness?"

Prince Jing came back to his senses. He suddenly recalled something that made his heart pound with fear. He asked Wen Ying, "Your surname is Wen. Are you from Jizhou?"

"Yes, this subordinate is from Guang County, Jizhou."

Upon hearing this, Prince Jing grew even more agitated, his voice changing pitch. "Where in Guang County?! What does your family do?! What is your date of birth?"

"A place below Guang County called Xiayao Village. My family were hunters, living on the mountain behind Xiayao Village. My father made a living by hunting. This subordinate was born on the twenty-second day of the twelfth lunar month of the Xinchou year."

Although he did not know why Prince Jing was asking these things, Wen Ying answered everything truthfully.

Prince Jing looked utterly horrified. He collapsed into a chair, his mind buzzing. He stared intently at Wen Ying's face, unable to speak for a long time.

Back then, he had been ordered by the Emperor to go to Jizhou to search for his missing sister-in-law and nephew. He finally found them on the back mountain of Xiayao Village in Guang County. The ones who had taken them in were indeed a family of hunters, and that quiet, honest man had indeed said that his surname was Wen.

At that time, seeing the man's burly and powerful build, he had wanted to recruit him as a personal guard to repay his kindness for sheltering his sister-in-law and nephew. After some hesitation, the man said he had a newborn child and a frail wife at home and declined, only accepting the silver he was given.

After that, he had brought his sister-in-law and one-month-old nephew back to the palace.

But now, he learned that the hunter Wen's son was born on the same day as his nephew. And this child had a blood mole on his chest—one the Late Emperor had, and his imperial brother had as well, both in the exact same spot and with the exact same shape. His imperial brother had once mentioned with great regret that, despite having many children, none of them had inherited this birthmark.

Looking at this child's face again, he had the Ling family's signature phoenix eyes. Though he didn't much resemble his imperial brother, he bore a striking resemblance to the Late Emperor!

Shangjing, Palace of Tranquil Longevity.

Late in the chen hour, Ling Qiyan went to the main hall to pay his respects to the Empress Dowager. The Mid-Autumn Festival was in two days, so he had been staying in the palace recently.

Xihua had arrived early and was showing her hundred-day-old son to the Empress Dowager. Beside her sat a little girl, almost two years old, quietly eating pastries.

Xihua had been married to the Lin Family's eldest grandson for three years. The couple was deeply in love and already had two children. Her once boisterous personality had calmed considerably. In contrast, Ling Qiyan was still a bachelor. At twenty, not only did he not have a single child, but he didn't even have a bed-warming maid in his manor.

The contrast between them made half of the Empress Dowager's hair turn white with worry.

She had mentioned it to Ling Qiyan several times: if he wouldn't take a primary wife, he could at least take a concubine. Ling Qiyan treated it all as if it were wind passing by his ears.

What concubine would he take? Those young girls looked lovely, but if they were actually in his bed, he wouldn't want to touch any of them, nor could he. He was too embarrassed to bring this up with the Empress Dowager, though he had a faint feeling she knew about his hidden illness.

Ever since a high monk at the imperial temple had prophesied three years ago that he had the fate of a 'lone star of calamity', the Empress Dowager had been taking him to the temple to live for several months each year. Countless sticks of incense had been burned, but it seemed to have no effect. The time was fast approaching for the 'three years later' that the high monk had spoken of that day, but he still didn't know what it meant.

Ling Qiyan pinched his little nephew's cheek, then teased his niece for a bit. Feeling bored, he sat to the side and began eating pastries.

The Empress Dowager sighed and complained to Xihua, "Look at him. Who knows when he'll ever grow up. You're already a mother of two, and what about him? He's stealing his niece's pastries, shameless... If I can't see him marry and have children in this lifetime, I'm afraid this old woman won't be able to rest in peace even after I die."

Ling Qiyan rubbed his ears, which had long grown calloused from hearing these words day after day, and simply pretended not to hear.

Xihua smiled and comforted the Empress Dowager, "Grandmother, don't say that. You still have many years to live. First Cousin will definitely let you hold eight or ten great-grandchildren."

The Empress Dowager sighed twice more, even more melancholic.

In the evening, Xihua took her children and left the palace to return to her manor. Ling Qiyan saw her out of the Palace of Tranquil Longevity.

Xihua asked with a grin, "Did you know that retainer of yours from back then went to Songlu Pass to join the army after leaving the capital? He's under my father-in-law's command now, already a fifth-rank Garrison Commander. He's very capable. The old Cilie Khan was killed by his own hand. Now that the war is over, my father-in-law will be returning to the capital soon, and he should be coming back too. He's sure to be promoted again."

Ling Qiyan was stunned for a moment. He had almost forgotten about such a person. He actually went to join the army?

An indescribable feeling surfaced in his heart, but he didn't let it show. Ling Qiyan said with a blank expression, "You're a mother of two now, yet you're still thinking about wild men outside. Be careful, or I'll go tell that eldest young master of the Lin Family."

Xihua was speechless for a second, then said irritably, "You had someone so talented in both letters and arms, yet you didn't cherish him and drove him away. Serves you right to be a loafer for the rest of your life."

"That's none of your concern."

Ling Qiyan lifted his chin, signaling her to hurry up and scram.

Xihua couldn't be bothered to argue with him and left with her children.

Ling Qiyan stood in place for a moment, staring blankly at the autumn scenery before him.

A gentle golden breeze blew, and phoenix tree leaves fell. Cool autumn had quietly arrived.

After a long while, Ling Qiyan shook off the chaotic and complicated thoughts in his mind, turned around, and walked up the steps.