Chapter 99

Chapter 99

Ming Tang had never met the Duke of Rong's Heir, knowing him only by reputation, with no idea of his appearance or disposition.

The last she'd heard of him was shortly after her marriage into the Pei family, when she accompanied Lady Pei to the palace for the Empress's birthday celebration.

On that occasion, noblewomen from various households entered the palace to pay their respects. After the grand ceremony, the Empress received them in the Phoenix Virtue Palace. The Duke of Rong's Heir had just achieved a military victory, and Consort De had intended to flaunt this during the audience, only to be swiftly rebuffed by the Empress in a few cutting words.

Ming Tang had marveled inwardly at the Empress's unshakable confidence and bluntness, realizing deeply why this woman had remained unchallenged in her high position for decades—her reputation was truly well-earned.

The current Emperor had always prioritized border defense. In casual conversations, Pei Yue had occasionally mentioned the state of the frontiers. The Liaodong frontier, personally guarded by the Duke of Yu, was as solid as a fortress. Among the key northwestern garrisons, Yulin had first been under Pei Jun's command, followed by Wan Hu, a fierce warrior risen from obscurity to become Regional Commander. Gansu, meanwhile, had been securely held for decades by Regional Commander Mu, with no breaches reported.

Chang'an, a major city along the northwestern line, was under the Duke of Rong's Heir's command, never lacking in manpower or resources. Two years prior, when all borders were peaceful and only routine drills were conducted, the Heir Apparent had somehow claimed a victory, earning imperial rewards and widespread acclaim among the capital's populace. Many even saw him as the successor to renowned generals like the Duke of Jingguo.

As the brother of Consort De, he was naturally aligned with the faction of the Prince of Jin, the Emperor's eldest son, bolstering the prince's standing.

Yet now, this so-called future military prodigy had delivered not a legendary triumph like "sealing the frontier at Mount Langju," but the ignominy of abandoning his post—a disgrace that would surely enter the annals of history from an entirely different angle. Ming Tang wondered how his staunch supporters would react.

Even setting aside his desertion, the fact that he had bungled something as simple as delaying the news—given the communication constraints of the time—made her shudder to imagine how utterly incompetent he must be in daily affairs.

Worse still, if one dug deeper, his so-called victory two years prior might not have been entirely aboveboard.

Ming Tang couldn't guess others' thoughts, nor did she care about the Heir Apparent's fate. She simply gazed at Pei Yue, her nails digging into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks.

Even though she had anticipated Pei Yue might go to war and had mentally prepared herself, the realization that he would inherit the mess left by someone who couldn't even delay bad news made it impossible for her to remain calm.

She couldn't dissuade him, nor could she alter the Emperor's decree. A whirlwind of thoughts condensed into a single, blunt phrase: "Worthless coward!"

Ming Tang rarely cursed so directly. For a moment, Pei Yue found it oddly refreshing, regretting that they weren't seated face-to-face so he could see her expression.

Taking her hand, he gently traced the crescent marks on her palm, as if smoothing them away—or perhaps conveying his own reassurance. "It's not as dire as you think," he said slowly.

"The Heir Apparent may be inept and now injured, but the armaments are intact. There are capable lieutenant generals previously promoted, and Prefectural Governor Li is level-headed. The situation is under control—not the bloody warfront you imagine."

"However," Pei Yue's tone darkened, "letting the Heir Apparent remain as Regional Commander is no longer feasible. If it were merely poor leadership, redemption through merit might be possible. But abandoning his post and then failing to conceal it? The Emperor is furious and suspects there may be other undisclosed misconduct. Hence, a replacement is imperative."

"And this replacement must not only be militarily competent but also familiar with the northwest, preferably of higher rank to command respect and untangle the mess. Leadership skills, comparatively, matter less here—so it practically has to be you?" Ming Tang leaned back slightly, her confusion easing.

Pei Yue gave a soft "Mmm," pulling her closer. Feeling her tense back relax against him, he marveled at her sharpness even as he knew she'd understand. "Exactly."

Unspoken was another detail: the Third Prince of the Tatars leading the invasion was the full brother of the late First Prince. With the First Prince dead, this Third Prince was now the likely successor to the khanate.

Years ago, Pei Jun had fought a brutal battle against that First Prince. Only a dozen of his hundreds of retinue survived, and Pei Jun himself succumbed to his wounds. To this day, surviving veteran guardsmen spoke of that battle with undiminished hatred, wishing they could have died in his place.

When Pei Yue visited those retired guards at the Pei estate earlier, some—still fit—had begged to return to Yulin, vowing to kill a few more Tatars before death, if only to honor General Pei Jun's spirit. If even his men felt so strongly, how could Pei Yue not ache with vengeance?

Upon learning who led this invasion, Pei Yue had silently resolved to act. Yet during the imperial audience, he held back, waiting for others to speak first. As expected, various factions pushed for him to take command, though they worried he might refuse to leave the capital—logically, he had no reason to agree.

After a careful performance of reluctance and modesty, Pei Yue "with apparent reluctance" relinquished his coveted position as Commander of the Jinwu Guard and agreed to go to Shaanxi province.

These details, however, needed no elaboration. Holding Ming Tang tightly, he rested his chin on her shoulder and changed the subject. "I know you and Mother won't stop me, but you'll still worry. No matter how much I reassure you now, once I'm gone, your hearts will follow. I only ask that, in your concern, you take care of yourselves. Otherwise..."

"Otherwise, you won't be able to focus in Shaanxi?" Ming Tang finished, exhaling deeply before smiling. "Don't worry. The capital has endless affairs. Between Mother, A Ze, and me, we'll be lucky to spare half an hour each day to think of you together. You’ll have our full confidence."

The tension eased. A faint rustling came from the adjoining room—someone had lit a lamp, its glow spilling through the mica-inlaid door, casting warm streaks in the dark.

Knowing Ming Tang and Pei Yue were in private conversation, the servants left quietly after lighting the lamps. Neither paid heed to the encroaching shadows, content in their embrace as silence settled.

After a long while, Ming Tang rallied. "Since you're leaving soon, we should prepare. I know you'll travel light, but in this cold, some essentials can't be skipped. And regarding the clan—some have hinted about sending their sons to serve under you. You'll need a retinue in Shaanxi, and having clansmen there would ease matters."

"If you intend to take them, I must send word now. They'll need time to decide, and you'll have to assess them. With all the arrangements, it’ll take at least two days."

Her mind already raced through potential candidates, but Pei Yue surprised her by saying, "I’ve already identified suitable clansmen and sent Chang Feng to inform them. I’ll meet them shortly in the outer courtyard."

Then, hesitantly, he asked, "You'niang, have you guessed something?"

Ming Tang covered her face, laughing softly.

Pei Yue, now certain she had, held her tighter, studying her expression. "You'niang, it’s not that I didn’t want to say, but I couldn’t bear to. This chance is rare—if missed, who knows when another will come?"

"The Nine Frontier Fortresses all have commanders. Even if Wan Hu in Yulin erred, the Emperor wouldn’t send me there. But Shaanxi is vacant, and the court unanimously pushed me forward. If I succeed, it’s my best chance to leave the capital."

The Jinwu Guard was prestigious, but in these turbulent times, commanding the palace guard made him a target. He was weary of dealing with scheming courtiers.

"Moreover, the Heir Apparent’s incompetence has harmed the border. Though the situation is stable now, I want to go myself. Generations of the Pei family have died in the northwest. If my skills can prevent such disasters, I must try."

But this meant he might stay in Shaanxi long-term.

Pei Yue had seen his elder brother and sister-in-law live apart, never imagining he’d hesitate for the same reason.

Though Ming Tang, unlike his ailing sister-in-law, was vigorous and devoted, likely willing to join him, the mere thought of separation unsettled him. Yet the idea of uprooting her from the capital’s comforts pained him equally.

Thus, though usually decisive, he now wavered, considering waiting until Shaanxi stabilized before deciding whether to seek the post permanently.

As he spoke, Ming Tang listened quietly. When he finished, she extricated herself, only for Pei Yue to insist on holding her hand. Seeing his stubbornness, she sighed, then laughed at his sudden tension.

"I was just mocking myself for overmanaging—forgetting you interact with the clan often." His strained relationship with his father had misled her into thinking he was distant from the family.

"Who knew you’d launch into such a speech?"

Even if she hadn’t sensed his intent before, it was crystal clear now.

Pei Yue flushed but pressed on, his gaze demanding an answer—though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear.

Ming Tang didn’t hesitate. "You said it’s a rare chance. If you let it slip, you wouldn’t be the Pei Yue who trains tirelessly. Even if you hadn’t planned to stay in Shaanxi, I’d have urged you. I’ve seen the south’s beauty and the capital’s splendor, but not the northwest’s vastness. To witness it would be life’s fulfillment."

Pei Yue, elated, shed his hesitation. "You believe I can do it?"

Ming Tang frowned. "Why doubt yourself? I remember your dragon boat prowess and peerless hunting skills. I don’t understand martial matters, but if the court deems you fit, then even you can’t question Pei Yue’s capability!"

Her eyes shone. Pei Yue, stirred, embraced her fiercely. When they parted, Ming Tang’s hair was tousled, her breath uneven.

Pei Yue, still enamored, kissed her hair, his fingers slipping beneath her clothes.

But Ming Tang stopped him, smiling archly. "Didn’t you promise to meet the clansmen? If we start, they’ll wait forever."

Pei Yue groaned, regretting his earlier decree that "those who can’t decide in a few hours don’t deserve frontier honors." Adjusting his robes, he rose. "I’ll see them and return late. Eat on time."

As he turned to leave, Ming Tang tugged his sleeve. In the dark, he couldn’t see her face, only heard her amused voice. "I didn’t wipe my rouge. If you go like this, you’ll be laughed at."

She sat up, dampened a kerchief with leftover tea, and—unable to see where the stains were—cradled his face, wiping carefully.

Their breath mingled. Even in the dark, Pei Yue’s gaze smoldered. As he leaned closer, Ming Tang stopped him. "There’s a mirror in the outer room. Check yourself before you go."

Pei Yue acquiesced, tucking away the kerchief before striding into the lamplight.

His lanky frame cast a long shadow. Ming Tang watched him go, her buried anxieties resurfacing, then yielding to his assurance, leaving her heart in tumult.

Pei Yue, having inspected his appearance, suddenly returned, calling for Zhe Liu to serve dinner.

His voice was light, his gaze fixed on Ming Tang as he tucked the kerchief away. "Eat. I’ll be back soon."

His tone and actions exuded nonchalance, dissipating her trepidation. Knowing he’d leave within days, she humored him, nodding. "As you wish, my lord."