Chapter 011: Promotion, Wealth, and a Dead Husband

Nanjiang was extremely far from Chang’an—so far that even from the highest mountain peak, one could not glimpse the splendor of Chang’an.

There were only endless mountains and year-round abundant rain. Amidst the overlapping forests and mist lay an eternal emerald green.

Above the river, a thousand layers of mountains rose, their floating verdant peaks like clouds and smoke. Whether they were mountains or clouds, they remained distant and elusive; as the mist cleared and the clouds dispersed, the mountains stood unchanged.

Nanjiang was humid and stifling, unlike Chang’an with its four distinct seasons. Here, there was only a rainy summer. Even during the coldest months of the year, the heat was unbearable, and when summer arrived, the sweltering heat became almost intolerable.

The Twenty-Four Mountains of the Southern Borderlands of Dachen were interconnected by ridges and waterways. Within them, poisonous mists and deep swamps lingered year-round. Looking up, the dense canopy of trees blocked the sky, obscuring all sense of direction. Everywhere one turned, there were trees, and the mountain paths were rugged. Looking down, rotting leaves could bury a person’s calves. It was said that Mountain Ghosts roamed these mountains, and any living soul who entered would surely perish.

The Qin Family Army, stationed at the border, had never encountered any Mountain Ghosts, but they had seen countless venomous insects. Hidden deep within the layers of leaves were all sorts of blood-sucking bugs. A person only needed to walk a few dozen steps before pulling their leg out to find tiny insects crawling all over their boots—insects that could burrow into the skin and travel all the way to the bones to lay eggs. There were snakes thicker than a person’s waist, spiders with faces as large as a human’s, and birds capable of speaking human tongues. All manner of strange and bizarre creatures gathered here, piecing together the Twenty-Four Mountains of Nanjiang, a place reputed to be forbidden even to gods and ghosts.

Thus, even with an army of a hundred thousand, it was impossible to pacify this land.

More terrifying than the snakes and insects in these twenty-four mountains were the Nan Gu People who dwelled within.

The Nan Gu People were skilled with venomous insects and adept at casting Gu Poison. Though few in number, each was steeped in toxicity. They frequently released poisonous insects into the borderlands, and the slightest misstep could trigger an epidemic.

The Nan Gu People coveted Dachen’s vast plains, its beauties as numerous as clouds, its wealth and prosperity, its distinct four seasons, and its lush, fertile rice paddies. Thus, they often led invasions, poisoning and killing in secret, dreaming of one day exterminating the people of Dachen so they could sit upon the golden throne and taste the delicacies of jade plates.

In earlier years, the Nan Gu People frequently invaded. By simply pouring a cup of poisoned water into a well, they could destroy an entire city. They nearly succeeded in swallowing Dachen whole, until the Qin Family Army rose as an unexpected force.

The imperial physicians of Dachen developed a poison that, when ingested, could counteract Gu Poison, though it also harmed the body. For half a month after taking it, the person would suffer excruciating pain, and some of the weaker ones would even die from the agony.

To defend the border and resist the Nan Gu People, the Qin Family Army, in their mortal flesh, consumed large quantities of this potent poison to strengthen themselves. Those who survived later formed a new army, stubbornly withstanding the onslaught of Gu insects and safeguarding the territory of Dachen. This single feat alone earned the Qin Family Army a century of glory.

Thereafter, Dachen and the Nan Gu People fought numerous battles, eventually demarcating the border, forbidding either side from crossing the line.

Zhennan Wang Chu Heng, the sole surviving adopted son of the Qin family—a lineage of unwavering loyalty—stood as the most formidable barrier between Dachen and the Nan Gu People. After stationing himself in Nanjiang, he personally led the army in constructing a fortress, painstakingly building a stronghold known as Nanyun City.

Outsiders often said, “As long as Nanyun City stands for a day, Dachen will remain secure for a day.”

Nanyun City was the largest city in Nanjiang, situated ten li from the border, garrisoned by the army of Zhennan Wang. Some common folk lived there, but more were traveling merchants who journeyed far and wide.

Though Nanjiang was a place teeming with poisonous insects and fearsome Nan Gu People, the Twenty-Four Mountains of the Southern Borderlands also abounded with various medicinal herbs. Here, one could dig up lingzhi mushrooms larger than a human head, worth a thousand gold per liang. Thus, despite its dangers, the region was frequented year-round by all kinds of traveling merchants.

These two letters flowed into the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion in Nanyun City along with the arrival of a large merchant caravan.

The Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion was not extravagant. Because its master was cold-natured and despised luxury, it was constructed using massive slabs of marble. From a distance, it resembled a fortress built of stone. Upon approaching, the distinct scent of dust from sun-baked stone hit one’s face directly.

Inside the mansion, there were no winding corridors or gardens, only a vast Drill Ground where Zhennan Wang’s guards trained their bodies daily.

On this day, as You Hour approached.

The sky in Nanjiang during You Hour was still bright, the sun overhead glaring fiercely. As the crowd trained on the Drill Ground, someone called out, “The Prince has returned!” and the group hurriedly rose to kneel and pay respects.

Amidst the chorus of “Greetings, Your Highness,” a new recruit couldn’t resist stealing a glance upward.

Every soldier in Dachen had heard of Zhennan Wang’s heroic deeds—a man standing at the pinnacle of power. No one could resist wanting to know what such a prince looked like.

The recruit secretly lifted his eyes and caught sight of a tall, imposing general.

He wore iron-clad long boots that wrapped around his calves, leading up to thick thigh muscles that appeared immensely powerful at a glance. Above that was a robust waist. Clad in a dark martial robe, he wore iron vambraces and carried a sword at his side. The hand resting on the hilt was covered in calluses, and even through the dark brocade fabric, the contours of the muscles on his arm were faintly visible.

Looking further up, there was a stern, cold, and severe face.

The face had sharp, angular features, with high brows and a straight nose, bearing the gaze of an eagle and the watchfulness of a wolf. His single-lidded eyes were sharply defined, deep and calm, like the darkest swamps of the Twenty-Four Mountains of the Southern Borderlands—capable of swallowing a person whole with just one glance.

An old scar ran across his brow and eye, giving him a fierce appearance. He appeared to be around thirty years old, his stature not slender like a youth’s but instead exuding the solidity, maturity, and ruggedness of a mountain.

He was extremely perceptive. The moment the recruit’s gaze fell upon him, his own eyes shot back with sharp intensity. The recruit, heart pounding, lowered his eyes and dared not look up again.

“This year’s recruits are too young and haven’t been taught much discipline,” the deputy general beside him noticed and whispered with an apologetic smile. “I’ll go punish them later.”

Chu Heng did not respond, silently passing through the courtyard walls and returning to his quarters.

Those who had served Zhennan Wang for long knew that he was a man of few words, never jesting and rarely engaging in conversation. In his presence, only strict military regulations prevailed.

Every day, aside from waging war, he trained troops. His only leisure time was spent sitting in his study reading letters.

In Chang’an, there weren’t many letters coming and going, so Zhennan Wang would look at old letters instead. Qin Chanyue’s days in Chang’an City passed like a continuous blooming of flowers, one after another, yet Zhennan Wang’s days in Nanjiang seemed frozen in time many years ago, never changing.

Normally, the deputy general wouldn’t dare disturb Zhennan Wang, but today, he mustered a bit more courage and said with a smile, “Two letters arrived from Chang’an today, both from Zhongyi Hou Mansion. It must be the Young Lady thinking of you.”

Chu Heng’s footsteps paused almost imperceptibly before resuming as usual. He passed through the tall courtyard gate, walked past rows of stern private soldiers, and entered a simple room.

The floor of the room was built with wooden planks. Inside, there was a writing desk and a bed. On the bed, a set of bedding was neatly arranged. Beyond that, the room was completely empty.

By the time he stood before the desk, two letters were already placed there.

The tall and imposing general stood before the desk for a long time, looking down at the two letters.

Though there were two letters, he only needed to glance down to tell which one was written by Qin Chanyue and which by Liu Yandai.

Liu Yandai came from a humble background, had little education, and her handwriting was clumsy and uneven. But Qin Chanyue was different—her writing was the sharp and striking Slender Gold Script, much like her own personality.

Seeing her handwriting was like seeing her in person. His memory of her remained from when she was a teenager—a delicate and charming young lady who would hide when she saw him, peeking back from behind the door to steal a glance at him.

The memories softened his expression, and a hint of something cool yet sweet, like honeyed water, seemed to flow in his sharp eyes. Slowly, he raised his hand and carefully, very carefully, opened her envelope.

She hadn’t written to him in a long time. His younger sister had grown up, no longer listening to her brother or wanting to speak with him, as if afraid of displeasing Qin Chanyue, who was far away in Chang’an. So, his movements grew even gentler as he slowly opened the envelope in his hand.

But the contents of the letter were far from tender. Every word Qin Chanyue wrote was filled with blood, tears, and hatred.

As soon as he saw the words on the letter, the gentle light in Chu Heng’s eyes vanished in an instant. Pressing his lips together, he read the letter word by word, his face growing terrifyingly dark.

Among his trusted followers in Nanjiang, there were people planted by the Second Prince.

And all of this was discovered first by Qin Chanyue.

If such a terrifying piece of information could reach Qin Chanyue, it meant that Chanyue, his sister, was now in a very dangerous situation.

Yet Qin Chanyue did not ask for his help. She only told him to deal with the spies. But with her in danger, how could he remain at ease in Nanjiang?

His weathered heart suddenly felt torn open, and even this usually steady man felt a twinge of unease.

After carefully reading every word on the letter, Chu Heng slowly put it away, steadied himself, and picked up Liu Yandai’s letter.

Liu Yandai was the child of his deceased personal guard. After the guard’s death, he took the fourteen-year-old Liu Yandai into his mansion and raised her for two years. Though she was a bit slow, she was extremely loyal, obedient, and would never do anything deceitful or two-faced. So, he sent her to Qin Chanyue to serve as her daughter-in-law.

With such an obedient daughter-in-law, Qin Chanyue would surely be able to live a peaceful and leisurely life as a mother-in-law.

Yet at the same time, Liu Yandai was also loyal to Zhennan Wang. She would never conceal anything that happened in the Houfu from him.

Qin Chanyue refused to explain her difficulties to him because she didn’t want him to worry, but Liu Yandai would certainly not hide anything. Whatever happened in the Houfu, he only needed to open the envelope to find out.

Something extremely serious must have occurred.

When Chu Heng picked up the envelope, he felt a faint heaviness in his heart.

His sister—

His fingers tore open the envelope, and the first line he saw was: “Shufu, it’s terrible, something has happened!”

Chu Heng’s heart sank, and he quickly read on, only to see Liu Yandai’s scrawled handwriting: “Father-in-law has kept a concubine outside, Pomu has poisoned Father-in-law, and Father-in-law is about to die from the poison!”

Chu Heng’s heavy heart suddenly felt light again.

He examined the letter repeatedly, and after confirming there were no hidden messages, he slowly put the envelope away. A hint of delight seemed to flicker in his cold, deep eyes.

The three great joys in life: promotion, wealth, and the death of a husband.

A good thing.