Chapter 11: Promotion, Wealth, and a Dead Husband

Chapter 11: Rise in Rank, Riches, and a Dead Spouse

The Southern Miasma—a treacherous borderland—is extremely far from the capital of Great Chen, so distant that even from the highest mountain peak, one cannot glimpse the splendor of the capital.

There are only endless mountains and year-round abundant rain, where the forests and mist intertwine in an eternal emerald hue. Mountains loom like layered clouds, their green so dense it melts into mist—indistinct, eternal.

The Southern Miasma is humid and stifling, unlike the four distinct seasons of the capital. Here, there is only the monsoon season, and even during the coldest months of the year, the heat is unbearable. When summer arrives, the sweltering heat becomes intolerable.

The twenty-four mountains of Great Chen’s Southern Miasma are interconnected, their waters flowing into one another. Within them, poisonous mists and deep swamps linger perpetually. Looking up, the dense canopy blocks the sky, obscuring all sense of direction—nothing but trees in sight. The mountain paths are rugged, and looking down, the rotting leaves can bury a person’s calves. Legends say mountain wraiths roam these peaks, and any living soul who enters will surely perish.

The Qin Family Army, stationed at the border, has never encountered such spirits, but they have faced countless venomous pests. Hidden within the deep layers of leaves are blood-sucking insects. After just a few steps, one’s boots will be covered in tiny pests that burrow into the skin, tunneling all the way to the bones to lay eggs. There are snakes thicker than a man’s waist, spiders with faces as large as a human’s, and birds that can speak in human tongues. All manner of grotesque horrors converge here, forming the twenty-four mountains of the Southern Miasma—a land where neither divine nor damned dare tread.

Thus, even with an army of a hundred thousand, this place cannot be conquered.

More terrifying than the snakes and insects of these mountains are the Southern Miasma people who dwell within.

The Southern Miasma people are drenched in poison and skilled in curses. Though few in number, each carries a body steeped in venom, constantly releasing toxic creatures into the borderlands. A single misstep can trigger a plague.

They covet Great Chen’s vast plains, its clouds of beauties, its wealth and luxury, its distinct four seasons, and its fertile, bountiful rice fields. Thus, they frequently invade, poisoning and killing, dreaming of one day slaughtering all of Great Chen’s people and seizing the throne for themselves, indulging in jade-plated delicacies.

In earlier years, the Southern Miasma people often invaded, needing only to poison a single well to destroy an entire city. They nearly succeeded in swallowing Great Chen whole—until the Qin Family Army surged forth unexpectedly.

Great Chen’s imperial physicians developed a poison that could counteract curses, though it also harmed the user. For half a month after taking it, the body would writhe in agony, and weaker individuals might die from the torment.

To defend the border against the Southern Miasma people, the Qin Family Army consumed this poison in large quantities, fortifying their bodies at great cost. Those who survived formed a new army, enduring the curse’s torment to protect Great Chen’s lands. This feat alone earned the Qin Family Army a century of glory.

Thereafter, Great Chen and the Southern Miasma clashed repeatedly, eventually establishing a border that neither dared to cross.

Chu Hang, the Prince of Southern Pacification—the Qin family’s honored martyrs all—was the sole surviving adopted son. He became the iron wall between Great Chen and the Southern Miasma. After stationing in the Southern Miasma, he personally led the construction of a fortress city: Southern Cloud City, a bastion of stone.

It is often said that as long as Southern Cloud City stands, Great Chen remains secure.

Southern Cloud City is the largest settlement in the Southern Miasma, situated ten li from the border. It houses the Prince of Southern Pacification’s army, along with some civilians, though most are itinerant merchants.

Despite the venomous creatures and fearsome Southern Miasma people, the twenty-four mountains also abound with rare herbs. Here, one can dig up reishi mushrooms larger than a human head, worth a fortune. Thus, despite the dangers, merchants frequent the region.

These two letters arrived in Southern Cloud City with a large merchant caravan, eventually reaching the Prince of Southern Pacification’s residence.

The Prince’s residence is not extravagant. Its master, cold-natured and averse to luxury, had it built with massive slabs of marble. From afar, it resembles a fortress of stone, and upon approach, the scorched-dust tang of sun-seared stone fills the air.

Inside, there are no winding corridors or gardens—only a vast training ground where the Prince’s guards drill daily.

On this day, as the Hour of the Rooster (5–7 PM) approached...

The Southern Miasma’s sky was still bright at the Hour of the Rooster, the sun blazing overhead. As the soldiers trained on the field, someone suddenly called out, “All hail the Prince!” The men hastily rose and knelt in salute.

Amid the chorus of “All hail the Prince,” a new recruit couldn’t resist stealing a glance upward.

Every soldier in Great Chen has heard of the Prince of Southern Pacification’s heroic deeds. He stands at the pinnacle of power, and none can resist wondering what such a man looks like.

The recruit’s furtive gaze fell upon a tall, imposing general.

He wore greaves of blackened steel that encased his calves, above which powerful thigh muscles bulged visibly. His waist was corded with muscle, clad in a dark warrior’s robe, his wrists guarded by iron bracers. A sword hung at his hip, and the hand resting on its hilt was leathern with calluses. Even through the dark fabric, the contours of his arm muscles were faintly discernible.

And above—a face carved from flint.

His features were sharp, with high brows and a blade of a nose, exuding the predatory glare of an eagle and the wary vigilance of a wolf. His narrow, blade-sharp eyes were deep and menacing, like abyssal swamps—capable of swallowing a man whole with just one look.

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There was an old scar running across his brow and eye, appearing quite menacing at first sight. He appeared to be around thirty years of age, his stature not as slender as a young man's but radiating the unyielding strength of a mountain—mature and robust.

He was extremely sharp; the moment the new recruit's gaze landed on him, his gaze pierced back like a blade. The recruit, heart pounding, lowered his eyes and dared not look up again.

"This year's recruits are too young, not yet taught proper discipline," the Deputy General following him noticed and offered a low, apologetic laugh. "I'll see to their punishment later."

Chu Hang did not respond, wordlessly crossing the courtyard to return to his quarters.

Those who had served the Prince of Southern Pacification for long knew he was a man of few words, never one for jokes or idle talk. In his presence, only relentless military discipline existed.

His days outside were spent either in battle or training troops, his only reprieve being when he sat in his study reading letters.

There weren't many letters from Chang'an, so the Prince often reread old ones. While Qin Chanyue's days in the capital passed in endless luxury, his own life in the southern borderlands seemed locked in stasis, unchanging for years.

Normally, the Deputy General wouldn't dare disturb the Prince, but today he found some courage. With a smile, he said, "Two letters arrived from Chang'an today, both from the Marquis of Zhongyi's residence. No doubt the young lady is thinking of you."

Chu Hang's steps halted for the barest moment before resuming their usual rhythm. He passed through the tall courtyard gate, walked past lines of stone-faced guards, and entered a simple room.

The floor was laid with wooden planks, containing only a desk, a bed with neatly folded bedding, and nothing else.

Standing before the desk for a long while, the tall and imposing general looked down at the two letters placed there.

Though there were two, one look was enough to distinguish which was written by Qin Chanyue and which by Liu Yandai.

Liu Yandai came from humble origins, had little education, and her handwriting was uneven. Qin Chanyue, however, wrote in the bold, angular 'slender gold' script, much like her own personality.

Seeing her handwriting was like seeing her in person. His memories of her remained from her teenage years—a delicate, shy girl who would steal glances from behind doors.

The recollection softened his stern features, his sharp eyes glistening with unexpected warmth. Slowly, he raised his hand and treated the envelope with utmost care before carefully opening it.

She hadn't written to him in a long time. His little sister had grown up, no longer listening to her elder brother or wanting to speak with him, perhaps afraid of displeasing Qin Chanyue back in Chang'an. So he handled the envelope with extra care, gently unfolding it.

Yet the contents were far from warm. Every word Qin Chanyue had written was drenched in blood, tears, and fury.

At the sight of the words, the softness in Chu Hang's eyes vanished instantly. Lips pressed tight, he read the letter word by word, his face hardening into thunderous severity.

Among his trusted men in the southern borderlands, the Second Prince's spies had wormed their way in.

And it was Qin Chanyue who had uncovered this.

If such terrifying news had reached her, it meant his sister was now in grave danger.

Yet Qin Chanyue hadn't asked for his help—only warned him to deal with the spies. But how could he remain in the south knowing she was at risk?

His battle-hardened heart abruptly fractured, and the usually unshakable man felt a ripple of disquiet.

After meticulously reading every word, Chu Hang slowly folded the letter, steadied himself, and picked up Liu Yandai's letter.

Liu Yandai was the child of a deceased personal guard. After the guard's death, he had taken the fourteen-year-old girl into his household for two years. Though not the quickest, she was unwaveringly loyal and compliant, never two-faced. Thus, he had sent her to become Qin Chanyue's daughter-in-law.

With such a dutiful daughter-in-law, Qin Chanyue could surely live a leisurely life as a noble matron.

But Liu Yandai was also fervently devoted to the Prince. She would conceal nothing about the household's affairs.

If Qin Chanyue withheld her difficulties to spare him worry, Liu Yandai would certainly reveal all. Whatever had happened in the Marquis's residence, he needed only open this letter to know.

The matter must be grave indeed.

When Chu Hang picked up the envelope, he faintly felt a heaviness in his heart.

His sister—

His fingers tore open the envelope, and the first line he saw read: "Uncle, it's bad—something's happened!"

Chu Hang's heart sank. He quickly scanned downward and saw Liu Yandai's chicken-scratch handwriting: "Father-in-law has been keeping a mistress outside, and mother-in-law poisoned him. Father-in-law’s dying!"

In an instant, the weight in Chu Hang's heart lifted.

He scrutinized the letter for hidden messages. Finding none, he slowly tucked it away. A glint of dark amusement flashed in his cold, solemn eyes.

Life’s three great blessings: promotion, wealth, and the death of a husband.

Now that’s good news.