Chapter 3

The general’s household was small. Apart from the servants, there were only Mother and my brother.

Mother was a general of the realm; her son was the junior general.

After he brought me home, she treated me as her own child.

She braided my hair with painstaking care, laughter filling her booming voice.

“Ha! I’ve always wanted a daughter. And now I’ve got one who’s clever and adorable! My little darling, just you watch Mother feed you up!”

My brother was sitting beneath the pear tree, reading a military treatise.

He remained perfectly straight-backed, his gaze fixed on the page, but the faintest smile touched his mouth.

Six years passed in warmth and happiness.

My brother was four years older than me. Trained from childhood in the family’s principles, he observed the old proprieties scrupulously. Yet his stern good looks and distinguished military record had made him famous young. Countless noblewomen in Chang’an invited him to spring outings and wine parties.

He refused them all, citing the proper distance between men and women, and broke who knew how many hearts.

Even with me, he was never demonstrative.

But I loved pear blossoms. Every morning after sword practice, he left a flowering sprig on my windowsill.

I loved Go. He collected rare old manuals that could no longer be found elsewhere and procured a priceless agarwood board, then had Mother give them to me.

When I thanked him, he kept his face stern and would not look at me, moving the military books about on his desk. This cold-faced terror of the frontier actually turned red at the tips of his ears.

“There’s no need to say anything. I picked the flowers in passing. A neighbor gave me the board and books.”

But the pear tree was so tall. And no neighbors had visited.

Foolish brother. He could not even make his lies hold together.

Later, he had to leave home for an inspection of the frontier.

Before departing, he took out Swirling Snow, the short blade he always carried, and offered it to me.

For the first time, my unsmiling brother spoke at length.

“Jianqing, this blade has cut pear blossoms for you through six springs. It always smells of flowers. I don’t want to stain it with blood when I go to war. Please take it as my parting gift.”

I looked at him in surprise.

His longsword, Flowing Wind, and his short blade, Swirling Snow, were an ancient pair of peerless weapons. They were priceless and had never been separated in hundreds of years.

I hesitated, uncertain whether I ought to accept.

He bent down and placed Swirling Snow on the ground. Then his long eyes curved as he smiled at me, and he turned to go.

It was the first time I had seen him smile.

He commanded with strict discipline and was both feared and respected wherever his reputation reached. Yet that smile was as beautiful as spring water thawing the ice.