Volume One: Flames on the Frontier Chapter Thirty-Four: The Peerless Beauty

He Yu understood the source of Deng’er’s heartache. Moved, he pulled her into his arms and, with a tone of domineering tenderness, rebuked her: “What nonsense is spinning in that little head of yours all day? What is this talk of being unworthy of great things? For your husband, your happiness is the greatest matter of all. I forbid you to speak such foolishness again. Do you hear me?”

It was the first time Deng’er had ever been scolded by He Yu, yet her heart felt as though a weight had been lifted; an indescribable happiness and sweetness welled up in her heart as she burrowed into He Yu’s embrace and began to sob. He Yu gently patted her back, comforting her for a long while.

After the execution of Diao Bao’s family, Chen Jing fell ill, unable to attend to affairs for several days. Though no one knew exactly what had transpired between Chen Jing and Diao Lan, it was clear to all that their lord’s illness was rooted in emotional turmoil. Everyone tacitly avoided mention of the Diao family in Chen Jing’s presence.

Murong Shao, unable to secure horses, left in anger—a lingering threat. If Murong Kai were to become enraged and send his army to attack, it would be no easy matter to deal with.

With Chen Jing unwell, Li Ling presided over the council to discuss countermeasures.

Li Jun spoke first: “It’s been confirmed—the court is attacking Wei in two columns. One is led personally by the Crown Prince Murong Bao, the other under Murong Kai’s command. Murong Kai’s forces, moving from south to north, are only a diversionary force of thirty thousand cavalry. Our Chen Clan Stronghold now has two thousand cavalry and three thousand infantry. Relying on our fortified city, it won’t be easy for Murong Kai to swallow us in one stroke.”

Simen Baizhang added, “The Chief Steward speaks true. Our Chen Clan Stronghold is not what it once was. Murong Kai’s main business is to tie down Wei; for now, he won’t make an enemy of us. But if the court wins, things may change. I believe we must hurry to drill and organize our troops to be fully prepared.”

Simen Baizhang’s words cut to the heart of the matter, and his suggestion to refine the troops showed strategic insight. He Yu rose to voice his agreement.

Seeing everyone participate, Li Yu also stood and offered her view: “The court wants to capitalize on last year’s conquest of Murong Yong and sweep away Wei in one stroke, but I think the risk is high. King Tuo Ba Gui of Wei, though young, is highly resourceful. This campaign may not bring a quick victory.”

Li Yu’s analysis was incisive, greatly boosting the stronghold’s morale. The others looked at her with approval.

He Yu thought to himself, “Li Yu has stumbled into the truth, guessing the general course of history. If memory serves, Murong Chui’s campaign against Tuo Ba Gui was the harbinger of his own downfall, and the battle at Canhe Slope will be his Waterloo.”

After thorough discussion, Li Ling concluded, “For now, Murong Kai is unlikely to attack us, but it pays to be prepared. Not a moment’s vigilance can be relaxed until his army departs.”

“After our stronghold destroyed Tianxiong Fort, Murong Kai did not act, and even sent us the culprit, Diao Bao—he’s helped us somewhat. I’ve discussed it with the Lord; tomorrow I’ll personally deliver four hundred warhorses to him, as a gesture of support for the troops, and to help smooth relations. I’ve heard Murong Kai is known for his deep composure and the bearing of a scholarly general, quite different from Murong Shao.”

Indeed, the wisdom of age is the sharpest. Li Ling’s approach, balancing firmness with courtesy, accounted for everything. He Yu admired this inwardly.

Though four hundred warhorses were a steep price for peace, it was within the stronghold’s means. With this gift, Murong Kai would not trouble them in the short term.

The plan settled, everyone set about their tasks. As commander of the cavalry, He Yu’s duty was to organize and drill the troops.

For several days, he wore his armor constantly and barely left the saddle, personally overseeing every aspect of training—a grueling endeavor. Before coming to this world, He Yu had excelled professionally and even had experience as an instructor. Returning to such work now felt almost second nature. Under his modern methods of training, the stronghold’s troops swiftly gained formidable fighting strength. Chen Jing, though ill, visited several times and praised He Yu’s abilities.

Chen Jing’s main ailment was emotional, and time proved to be the best medicine. Within a few days, his spirits lifted and his health improved.

That afternoon, while He Yu was supervising archery on the main drill field, a servant came to summon him to a banquet.

He Yu did not dare tarry. After giving instructions, he returned to the Plum Pavilion. Deng’er attended to his attire. In recent days, she had sewn him a new, moon-white silk robe with a round collar.

He Yu changed into the robe, fastened his jade belt, and looked every inch the elegant young gentleman. Seeing Deng’er’s gaze fixed on him, He Yu was momentarily at a loss. “Deng’er, is something wrong?”

Deng’er’s eyes sparkled like stars as she shyly murmured, “My husband is so handsome—I truly like you so much.”

He Yu smiled, a little embarrassed, and changed the subject: “It’s really thanks to your fine needlework, my dear, that this robe fits so well.”

Delighted by his praise, Deng’er led him by the hand and accompanied him to the door.

Chen Jing’s residence was at the northernmost end of the inner stronghold, surrounded by verdant bamboo, hence its name, Bamboo Pavilion. Within stood a three-story tower called Pine-Crane Tower. The Bamboo Pavilion had its own gate and courtyard, heavily guarded. Chen Qingyun had once lived there too, but later moved to Orchid Residence. Thus, only Chen Jing’s family and a few close relatives lived in the spacious Bamboo Pavilion.

He Yu had lived in the stronghold for over half a year, but had only visited the Bamboo Pavilion a handful of times, and those in haste—he had little impression of the place.

The banquet was held on the third floor of Pine-Crane Tower. From this height, all the mountains, rivers, and greenery of Chen Clan Stronghold could be seen at a glance.

As it wasn’t far, He Yu walked at a leisurely pace and soon arrived at the gate of Bamboo Pavilion.

He was about to call out when a voice behind him said, “Master He, wait for me!”

He Yu recognized it as Chen Qingyun. She, too, was evidently invited to the family banquet.

He Yu offered a slight bow. “Lady Chen, well met.” Chen Qingyun returned the gesture gracefully, “Greetings, Master He.”

No one knew exactly when it had begun, but whenever Chen Qingyun met He Yu, her demeanor softened—once a tomboy, love had made her gentle.

Since their last heart-to-heart, Chen Qingyun was less reserved with He Yu, speaking more freely and naturally.

Yet He Yu, mindful of Deng’er’s feelings and wary of Chen Qingyun falling too deeply, often kept his distance.

Now Chen Qingyun walked right up beside him and asked with concern, “Master He, how is your hand healing?”

In the stronghold, He Yu was now addressed as Captain, but Chen Qingyun persisted in calling him Master He, and seemed to relish it.

He Yu opened his right hand gratefully. “Please see, Lady Chen—it’s much better now, thanks to your fine medicine.”

Chen Qingyun glanced at his hand and smiled. “At least you’ve said something nice about me at last. You’ve been avoiding me lately, but today I’ve finally caught you.”

He Yu laughed awkwardly, denying it. “Not at all, Lady Chen, you do love to tease me.”

Seeing He Yu’s embarrassed defense, Chen Qingyun smiled but said no more, leading the way up the path. He Yu followed her toward Pine-Crane Tower.

With Chen Qingyun leading, there was no need for servants to announce them. The path wound through bamboo shadows and elegant pavilions—a tranquil setting.

As they approached the tower, the sounds of a zither drifted down from above: the melody was ancient and lofty, evoking a sense of seclusion from the world.

He Yu knew little of music, but his intuition told him the player’s skill rivaled Deng’er’s.

At the sound, Chen Qingyun recalled her own humiliating defeat in the previous zither contest with Deng’er and felt embarrassed, sneaking a look at He Yu. Just then, he glanced her way too; their eyes met, and He Yu hastily looked away, making Chen Qingyun laugh aloud.

As they climbed the stairs, He Yu searched for something to say. “Lady Chen, who is playing up there? The music is truly exquisite.” He knew little about such things, but offered praise nonetheless.

“Who else? It’s my elder brother, of course. I learned with him, but he mastered the zither while I never could—embarrassing myself before you. But you’re no expert either, so we’re even.” Chen Qingyun’s lightheartedness made He Yu smile.

They reached the upper floor and entered after knocking.

Within was a refined chamber, incense curling from a bronze burner, and the walls adorned with paintings of zithers, swords, books, and calligraphy.

Chen Jing, in wide scholar’s robes, sat on a low couch carved with birds and flowers, swaying to the music, eyes closed as he played. The notes were clear and lingering—it was evident his illness had nearly passed.

Chen Jing was usually dressed as a warrior. Seeing him now in scholarly attire surprised He Yu greatly.

Chen Qingyun noticed his surprise and whispered, “Except when he’s handling affairs, my brother always dresses like this at home—he has for decades. You’ve only been here a short while, and seldom visit Bamboo Pavilion, so you wouldn’t have known.”

When the piece ended, Chen Jing opened his eyes and greeted He Yu warmly, “Yu Zhi, you’re early—come, take your seat!”

He Yu bowed and knelt at a side table, with Chen Qingyun sitting close by.

Looking around, He Yu noticed there were no other guests—had the lord invited only him tonight? Such honor!

After a few pleasantries, pages brought in wine, fruits, and dishes.

When the food was arranged, eight musicians entered, bearing lutes, pipes, flutes, and harps, and sat to one side, playing softly.

As the music began, two lines of young women in pink dance skirts emerged from behind the screens, dancing gracefully. One of the dancers began to sing, her voice lilting and clear. Listening closely, He Yu recognized the verses from the Book of Songs, “Peach Tree Soft and Tender”:

Peach trees soft and tender, their blossoms glowing bright.
This maiden now returns home, fit for her house and kin.
Peach trees soft and tender, their fruit full and ripe.
This maiden now returns home, fit for her family’s life.
Peach trees soft and tender, their leaves lush and green.
This maiden now returns home, fit for her family’s scene.

He Yu, coming from the modern world, had never witnessed such a scene; his eyes nearly popped from their sockets. He thought to himself, “So this is what those books meant by ‘families that dine to the sound of bells and chimes, choosing music as they eat, with cauldrons arrayed before them’.”

“Chen Jing is so astute and decisive, yet who would have thought he also knows how to enjoy life in such secret luxury!”

Dining with a group of beautiful young women singing and dancing around him—this was a treatment He Yu still could not quite adapt to.

But the food at Chen Jing’s table was delicious, with flavors reminiscent of the soft sweetness of southern cuisine, quite different from the usual fare of the stronghold.