Chapter 4

Chapter 4

On the day I left, Grandfather did not see me out.

He sat in the main hall, facing south, just as he had every day for the past six years.

I stood at the doorway for a long time before finally saying, “Grandfather, I’m leaving.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

I stepped over the threshold, then hesitated and stepped back. “You’ll be alone-”

“Zhao Qi is staying behind to keep me company,” he interrupted. “Don’t be so sentimental. It’s unseemly.”

I grit my teeth.

Then he spoke again. “Shen Heyi.”

“Yes.”

“Once you’re out there, do not be soft-hearted. Soft-hearted people don’t survive their first battle.”

I said, “I know.”

“You don’t know.” Grandfather shook his head, his voice suddenly dropping as if he were talking to himself. “Your father was far too soft-hearted back then.”

I froze.

This was the first time in six years that Grandfather had mentioned my father.

He didn’t say anything more, merely waving his hand to signal me to leave.

I turned and walked out.

Outside the gate, Xie Changgeng had already readied the horses. Seeing me come out, he didn’t rush me; he simply handed over the reins.

I took them and vaulted into the saddle.

As the horses’ hooves trotted out of Yaling, I looked back once.

Grandfather’s small courtyard had already shrunk to a grey speck. But I knew he must still be sitting there, facing south.

The thing he had waited six years for-someone was finally going to get it for him.

Xie Changgeng’s power base was in Shuofang.

Shuofang was a border region, bitter, cold, and impoverished, but its people were fierce, and both men and women were skilled in riding and archery. Three years ago, his military power had been stripped away, but many of his old subordinates were still scattered throughout the borderlands, waiting for his return.

We set out from Yaling and headed north, traveling for nearly two months.

During those two months, I learned three things.

First, Xie Changgeng was no mere brute. He had served in the army for many years and was a master of warfare, but his mind ran far deeper than the battlefield. At every location we passed, he would inquire about the local officials, the stationed troops, and the leanings of the common people, then discuss them with me at night.

He had an extraordinary memory; he remembered every road he traveled, every person he met, and every word he heard, able to recall them at a moment’s notice.

Grandfather was right. What he lacked wasn’t brains, but someone who could piece all the fragments into a complete picture.

Second, he treated people exceptionally well. This “well” wasn’t a form of charity, but rather… how should I put it? He looked at everyone as if he were looking at a blade. He wasn’t just looking to use you; he was looking at your true nature-whether the blade was straight or curved, suited for hacking or piercing.

Then, he would place you in the most appropriate position.

Zhao Qi said this was called “discerning character,” a natural-born talent.

Third, and most fatally-

I found it difficult not to look at him.

It was absurd. I, Shen Heyi, had lived for twenty years; I could kill a man at fourteen without blinking and read military texts until dawn, yet I was being unsettled by the mere sight of a man’s back.

I told myself it was because the journey was too exhausting.

I told myself it was because the borderlands were too cold, and as he rode, his back blocked the wind.

I found seventeen reasons for myself.

Not a single one could fool me.