The Huai Yue Pavilion, perched at the top of Mount Chang’e, was a small, four-cornered gazebo with no walls to block the wind. Surrounded by grasses, it bathed in starlight and moonlight when the sky darkened. During this cold season, a cup of ice wine and a song were enough to stir the deepest sorrows from across the world.
“Move aside!” a cold, angry voice demanded. The speaker's rage was palpable.
But the eight kneeling guards, led by Lian Huan, did not budge. Three maids hurried over, fearing that the disturbance might disrupt their mistress’s enjoyment. Night Pei, their leader, politely greeted, "Greetings, Lady Jia!" The three of them knelt without hesitation, their light silken clothes tearing on the jagged stones of the steps beneath them, but they did not seem to mind the pain.
Zhenqu’s Lady Jia furrowed her delicate brows, clearly annoyed. The noblewomen standing beside her quickly seized the chance to ingratiate themselves by scolding, “How dare you servants block Lady Jia, who is hosting guests to enjoy the moon at Huai Yue Pavilion! Have you all lost your minds?”
However, Night Pei remained kneeling and calmly replied, “Please forgive us, Lady Jia. Our Lady Frost Consort is currently playing the flute at Huai Yue Pavilion. We ask for your understanding, as she is longing for her homeland. Perhaps you could enjoy the moon elsewhere.”
At these words, the noblewomen behind Lady Jia burst into laughter. One of them kicked Night Pei to the ground, but Lian Huan’s quick reflexes caught her, preventing her from rolling into the grass by the side of the path. Night Pei wiped a little blood from the corner of her mouth, returned to her kneeling position, and coldly repeated, “Please, Lady Jia, take another route.”
Lady Jia stood in silent contemplation, gazing at the eight guards and three maids kneeling on the ground. They neither resisted nor spoke much, yet their quiet demeanor radiated an imposing air. Such disciplined subservience was rare among the servants of the palace concubines.
“Well, well! You’re really determined to block the way, huh? What a lowly life! That Frost Consort doesn’t even have an official palace title, yet she dares overestimate herself by standing in the way of Huayu Palace's nobility!” one of the noblewomen scoffed, her arrogance on full display. She raised her leg to kick again, but Lian Huan swiftly pulled Night Pei aside, causing the woman’s kick to miss.
“How dare you dodge! You insolent wretch!” the woman fumed.
“Who’s the one without manners?” came a clear, cold voice that instantly silenced everyone on the mountainside. Huang Bei Shuang tugged her robes closer, as if feeling a chill, and walked gracefully toward Lady Jia. She was slender and frail, her steps like those of a lotus. Just as she was about to speak, she sneezed. The maid Zai Ping quickly took the jade flute from her hand, and Dao Qiu hurriedly draped a fox fur coat over her shoulders.
“Greetings, Lady Jia,” Huang Bei Shuang said with a gentle smile, her presence like the moonlight itself, cool and serene, washing away the gaudy splendor of the noblewomen. It was a long moment before anyone reacted. Just as someone was about to retort, a figure slowly emerged from behind Huang Bei Shuang. As soon as they recognized him, everyone, including Lady Jia, dropped to their knees in a flash.
“Long live His Majesty!” their voices echoed through the Chang’e Mountain valley.
Na Zhan looked at Huang Bei Shuang and said, “Rest now. I’ll speak with you another day.”
Huang Bei Shuang nodded and left with her entourage of eleven following closely behind.
That night, silence reigned. No one dared speak a word until Huang Bei Shuang had gone. Then, Na Zhan helped Lady Jia to her feet and smiled, “The moon is waiting for you, my beloved.” With that, he took her hand, and the group ascended to the four-cornered pavilion where the cool flute melodies had recently played. Before long, the sounds of cheerful conversation and laughter filled the air.
Beauty often comes with divine grace!
When the moon shines on the heavens,
I see you kiss the flute, your shadow ready to fly.
It is then I realize,
In the vast sea of humanity, there is no paradise.
And loneliness has long reigned supreme.
The moon shining over Yunpei’s oases seemed soft and gentle, while the moon over the desolate desert was veiled by cold clouds.
Twenty days ago, this place had been nothing but barren land. But in that short time, Mang Liu’s forces had built a low-lying fortress spanning nearly two miles between the dunes, hidden away from the eyes of passersby. At night, the fortress exuded a ghostly, ominous presence.
“Your Majesty, our spies report that the Huohe envoy arrived in Yunpei three days ago. So far, Na Zhan has not granted him an audience,” a black-clad officer reported, kneeling respectfully before Qing Yun, who sat at a table examining a map.
“Hmph! There’s a nine-in-ten chance that Na Zhan won’t send troops,” Qing Yun remarked.
“Why does Your Majesty say so?” the officer asked.
Qing Yun smiled. “Ruo Wen has no intention of attacking Huohe.”
The black-clad man was puzzled and asked in a low voice, “If he’s not attacking Huohe, could he be targeting Yunpei? That would be bold indeed—Yunpei is no Masui, and Na Zhan’s Red Cavalry are no paper soldiers!”
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