Chapter Fifteen: Princess Ji Mi

Chapter Fifteen: Princess Ji Mi

The first time he saw Ji Mi was atop the city walls of Yingdu. Draped in crimson, her sleeves fluttered as she moved with light, graceful steps, in harmony with the wild, desolate rhythm of the war drums, exuding an aura both mysterious and serene. The soldiers returned from battle watched in silence, momentarily forgetting the sorrow of defeat.

Peng Ji explained that this was a “dance,” a rite performed by shamans to please the gods with song, music, and movement.

That flash of red lingered in Meng Di’s gaze, so like the glow of fire in a mountain valley.

Leaning against the city wall, Meng Di felt a wave of loneliness. He had spent so long in this world, striving to become one with the people of Chu—living as they did, fighting as they did—yet he knew he did not truly belong. This world was right before his eyes, and yet it felt strange and remote. It was not his world; he was still trapped in that fire-lit valley of his memories.

Yet, at this moment, the crimson on the wall merged with the firelight of that distant night.

He had been in Yingdu for several days now. After the initial chaos, the city had gradually begun to settle. The streets were nearly empty, though more armed citizens and servants were arriving at the walls by the day.

Meng Di’s cavalry had been assigned to defend a section of the southern wall. After the last battle, most of his men had perished: Li Yan and Zhong Ying had both died, and Zhao Miao’s fate was unknown.

Peng Ji had hurried home to see his wife and daughter and rushed back again, complaining quietly about Li’s lack of consideration.

Li had disappeared.

An elderly retainer, dressed as a servant, whispered a few words in Li’s ear, and his expression changed dramatically. Stammering, he told the others that his father was gravely ill and that he must go at once to see him one last time. It turned out Li was from the state of Yue, a concubine’s son from a great household, and even “Li” was not his real name.

Meng Di had long suspected that Li was no ordinary foot soldier. As for why he had hidden his identity and come to Chu to serve as a common soldier, since he would not say, there was no point in prying. Given the disastrous turn of battle, leaving now was perhaps the wisest course.

When the woman in red finished her dance, she departed the wall surrounded by guards. As she turned, Meng Di caught a glimpse of her face—astonishingly beautiful, her bright eyes tinged with sorrow, and her delicate nose slightly upturned.

Peng Ji, ever curious, scurried off to inquire and returned with a mysterious air, whispering to everyone, “That’s Princess Ji Mi, the King’s own sister!”

The revelation left everyone even more awestruck. No wonder she seemed otherworldly, like a celestial maiden.

Yet Ji Mi’s heart was far less calm than her outward appearance suggested.

The news of defeat had just reached the palace when she hurried to the hall of Xiong Zhen, only to hear hysterical weeping and wailing within. She could hardly imagine her brother, King of Chu, behaving before the court like a child. Xiong Zhen had overturned his desk in a frenzy, repeating over and over, “Yingdu cannot be held. I must leave, I will not go to Wu.”

The ministers exchanged anxious glances. It was Zi Xi who finally shouted to break the King’s fit. “Your Majesty, Yingdu is supported by Jinan City and Mai City as flanks. The walls are high, the waters deep, and we still have tens of thousands of citizens and servants—we may yet defend it.”

“Yes, yes. The Chancellor spent ten years rebuilding Yingdu and swore to me it would be impregnable.”

At the mention of Chancellor Nang Wa, Xiong Zhen began cursing loudly once more. One hundred and fifty thousand troops—gone! Nang Wa was incompetent, deserving a thousand deaths.

Zi Xi, helpless, did his utmost to console the King and urged Shen Baoxu to hurry to the state of Qin for reinforcements. Since Qin and Chu were bound by marriage—Xiong Zhen’s mother, Lady Meng Ying, was the daughter of the King of Qin—surely Qin would not turn a blind eye.

After much persuasion, Xiong Zhen finally abandoned his plan to flee. Zi Xi then led the remaining ten thousand elite soldiers out of the city to camp at the Lufu River, which lay between the Wu army and Yingdu, and was easily defensible.

Ji Mi knew her brother would not wish her to witness his disgrace; she quietly left the palace and went to the city wall, praying for Chu’s deliverance.

The Wu army did not keep the people of Chu waiting long. Their forces bypassed Zi Xi, splitting into three columns to attack Yingdu, Jinan City, and Mai City simultaneously.

From the very start, the section of wall Meng Di guarded came under fierce assault. Both Wu Zixu and Bo Pi were natives of Chu and knew the minds of Chu’s rulers and ministers well; they chose to break through the neglected southern wall.

The fighting raged from dawn until dusk. Meng Di’s arms ached unbearably, and the ground below the wall was carpeted with the corpses of Wu soldiers. Only when the signal for retreat sounded did the enemy finally withdraw.

As relief washed over him, Meng Di turned and slumped against the parapet. A flash of crimson caught his eye.

“Get the Princess out of here—it’s dangerous,” he rasped to the nearby guards, then, unable to hold out any longer, sank into sleep.

Before dawn, he was jolted awake by the sound of Wu drums. Springing to his feet, he peered out from the parapet to see countless Wu soldiers advancing swiftly with ladders. Another day of battle had begun.

The stones and timber the servants had spent all night transporting were quickly exhausted. Arrows were in short supply. For those enemy soldiers who managed to scale the wall, it was down to blades and bare hands.

The number of soldiers around Meng Di dwindled rapidly, while the Wu, with their overwhelming numbers, attacked in waves. Just as he began to falter, a dozen Chu soldiers suddenly appeared beside him, hacking fiercely and forcing the Wu back down.

They were the Princess’s guards. Turning, Meng Di saw Ji Mi’s anxious yet resolute eyes. He thought to send her away, but reconsidered—so be it.

With the help of the guards, this stretch of wall held for the moment, and the local commander hurried over with reinforcements.

Things seemed to be improving. Though fierce, the Wu soldiers could not quickly overcome the high walls, and the forces at Jinan and Mai Cities kept them from launching an all-out attack on Yingdu. After several more hours of fighting, the Wu army once again sounded the retreat.

Just as everyone was catching their breath, a thunderous roar shook the heavens and earth. Looking toward the sound, they soon saw floodwaters from upstream surging toward the city, sweeping Yingdu into the torrent in a single, overwhelming rush.

The city had fallen!

The floodwaters smashed through the walls. Meng Di was hit by a tremendous force and swept away. As he was tumbled about, barely able to tell east from west, a flash of red caught his eye. Without thinking, he reached out and pulled it close—it was Ji Mi.

Curling himself around the woman, Meng Di did his best to shield her as they rolled through the waves. Blinding pain wracked his body; he could not tell how many bones were broken.

Suddenly, the violence ceased. The waters, swift to come, receded just as quickly. All around was devastation—ruins and shattered walls as far as the eye could see.

The woman in his arms had lost consciousness. Just as he hesitated, the shrill cries of horses rang out. Several warhorses, tied on high ground, had not been swept away, but were wild with fear, screaming desperately.

Biting back the pain, Meng Di mounted one of the horses and rode toward a less populated area. Before long, he reached the west gate and left the city. Outside the gate, a wide river—the Ju River—ran across his path. Swollen by the flood, the Ju was now a sweeping torrent, impossible to cross.

He could only ride along the riverbank. To his surprise, he found a small boat stranded in a bend of the river. Quickly pushing it into the water, he lifted Ji Mi aboard, and as he leapt in after her, darkness closed over his eyes—he, too, lost consciousness.

Unattended, the little boat drifted away, carried by the current.