Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

"It is by order of the king." Lu Su took a half step forward, the jade pendant on his waist clashing lightly against the bronze scabbard. He noticed that the bone ornament on Shamoke's earlobe suddenly stopped, so he bowed and said: "In addition to taking the mistress and the young master back to Chang'an," a sudden breeze blew in from the corridor, blowing the tassels on the corner of his robe, "the king has set an auspicious day to confer the mistress as princess along with Miss Dong and Miss Zhen."

The pine torches crackled with a loud bang, sending sparks flying onto Shamoke's clenched axe handle. The hall suddenly grew so quiet that one could hear the dripping of water seeping through the rock walls. Several leaders wearing feather headdresses instinctively drew their daggers at their waists. The subtle clink of the leather sheaths against the bronze rings echoed in the silence like the whistling of a snake awakening after the Waking of Insects.

Shamoke suddenly roared, picked up Ma Yue and stood up. His iron boots lifted, sending the sandalwood table sliding three feet away. The bronze wine jar rolled to Gan Ning's feet, the wine leaving a dark brown, winding trail on the stone slab. As his towering body leaned forward, the finger bone charm on his earlobe swung violently, the crashing sound mixing with the crackling of pine torches. "Wedding?"

Gan Ning was about to bend down to hold the wine jug when he felt a chill on the back of his neck—the leader with the eagle-feather headdress had already unsheathed his dagger. Shamoke's wildly patterned arm slammed down on the porch pillar, sending plaster from the beams cascading onto Lu Su's hair. "He's surrounded by women in Chang'an," the axe blade suddenly slammed into the wooden pillar beside him, revealing an old dark brown scar in the flying sawdust. "Why bother coming back to Shanyue?"

As Lu Su hurriedly bowed, he saw that all the shirtless leaders in the hall had their weapons on their waists. "The leader may have a misunderstanding..." Before he finished speaking, Shamoke had picked up a copper-handled axe and chopped it on the ground, the axe blade embedding into the stone slab.

"Misunderstanding? What kind of misunderstanding could there be!" Shamoke's roar shook the bronze bells on the beams, and his beard stood on end in rage. He swung his arm, which was covered with wild lines, fiercely, and the scars on his knuckles shone palely in the firelight: "We Shanyue have left behind so many orphans and widows because of him, Ma Chao. I only have this one sister, and she also lost her life for him. But he is so good, he wants to marry several princesses at the same time in Chang'an. He is really proud of himself! ! ! "

The Shanyue leaders in the hall roared in agreement. The old man in the eagle-feather headdress chopped his bone knife into the ground, sending up stone chips that brushed against the toes of Lu Su's boots. Shamoke's towering figure turned toward the corridor, the finger bone beads on his earlobes clattering with a sharp, crisp sound. "Kick these two out!" His iron boots rolled over the wine stains on the stone slabs, the dark red water marks looking like fresh blood in the firelight. "The Shanyue's tents are no place for the rich and powerful of Chang'an!"

The elder wearing the beartooth necklace immediately waved his hand, and four bare-chested Shanyue warriors took a half-step forward, their hide boots rustling against the ground. Gan Ning instinctively raised his spear, its tip gleaming coldly under the torchlight, only to see Zhou Yu holding him tightly. Shamoke angrily declared, "Tell Ma Chao that if he still cherishes our old friendship, don't bring up my sister's status. The Shanyue will just treat him as if he's dead, and have no further dealings with him!"

Gan Ning was about to argue, but Lu Su, having heard Shamoke's furious roar, had clearly grasped the truth—his mistress had passed away! He looked at Zhou Yu in shock, his eyes clearly questioning, "Why did you keep such a serious matter secret?" Zhou Yu smiled wryly, speechless, as the Shanyue warriors drove everyone out of the hall. Gan Ning tugged at Zhou Yu's sleeve, "When did the mistress pass away? Why did you hide this from us? Now that we're at odds with the Shanyue, what are we going to do?"

The broken jade buckle on Zhou Yu's sleeve suddenly pricked his palm, causing him to ache. Finally, in a hoarse voice, he confessed the news of Sally's death. Lu Su clutched the jade pendant at his waist, the soft snap of the jade cord mingling with the crackling of the bronze bells on the eaves. "Gongjin should have said it earlier! If you had known that the mistress died protecting Sun Shao..." Before he could finish his words, he staggered, straightening his clothes, and prostrated himself before the red door of the meeting hall. The scrape of the jade belt hook against the blue bricks startled the crows on the steps.

Gan Ning's iron spear clanged against the ground, and the morning dew dripped from the bronze bell quiver. As he knelt, the rubbing of armor plates startled Ma Yue, who poked his head out of Shamoke's arms. "My mistress is so righteous," he said, his forehead touching the ground. He caught a glimpse of the Shanyue leaders' clenched sword handles through the crack in the door. "My king is far away in Chang'an, unaware of the true situation, so he mistakenly announced a grand wedding..." Before he could finish his words, Zhou Yu knelt as well.

Just as Taishi Ci was about to put his hand on the hilt of his sword, he heard Zhou Yu whisper a command, and he hurried away with his guards. Half an hour later, Da Qiao, Xiao Qiao, Sun Shao, and Zhou Yin arrived at the eaves, with the guards and orphans kneeling in two rows behind them. Suddenly, the sound of cups and plates dropping to the ground could be heard in the meeting room. Ma Yue, tugging at Shamoke's beard, said anxiously, "Uncle, look! The aunts are kneeling outside!"

Shamoke's gnarled arms suddenly tightened, his fingertips rubbing against the wolf-tooth necklace on Ma Yue's wrist—the token his sister had clutched before her death. When the child shouted for the third time, "Hurry, let them get up!" tears suddenly rolled down his tiger eyes. He stomped his iron boots, sending dust flying onto the ground, and rushed out of the gate, holding Ma Yue in his arms: "That's enough!"

The bronze bells of the Shanyue shamans trembled in the morning mist. Twelve soul banners were arranged in a circle along the tomb, their blood-stained war symbols gleaming in the dew. Shamoko's iron arms wrapped around Ma Yue as he trod across the newly-cultivated loess. The soles of his animal-hide boots crushed a few petals of unburned paper money. The ashes, mixed with the morning mist, rose into the air, startling two jackdaws carrying the paper money in their beaks.

The child's tiny hands, clutching three sticks of green incense, trembled. The incense ash fell into the bronze cup in front of the Shalier stele, mixing with the Xiliang liquor Gan Ning had just poured into it, turning it a dark brown. As Shamoke straightened the incense and candles for him, the finger bone charm on his earlobe made a small clinking sound, now swaying gently with his rising and falling chest. Ma Yue suddenly pointed at the paper money fluttering among the banners and said, "Uncle, look, does it look like the kite that Auntie taught me to fold?"

As Shamoke's rough palm caressed Ma Yue's forehead, his fingertips rubbed the child's brow, causing it to tremble slightly. "Silly boy," he said, his throat rolling, the morning mist on his beard falling onto the child's collar. "Your mother is watching us from the shadow of the banner." Shamoke looked at Ma Yue with fondness. The child had never shed a tear since he was a child, and he had quite a bearing.

Da Qiao's figure trembled violently as she lay sprawled on the newly formed grave soil, her plain silk headscarf soaked with tears. Ma Yue watched her heartbroken face as she struggled to get out of Shamoke's arms. As Ma Yue wriggled free of Shamoke's embrace to help her, the grass debris on his sleeve brushed against her trembling shoulders. "Auntie, don't cry," he said, looking up at the billowing paper money, which flitted like gray butterflies across the bronze bell atop the tombstone. "Mother is watching us."

Gan Ning's iron spear trembled violently, its tip striking the wine jar, leaving a dark, winding streak on the grave. Taishi Ci frantically grasped his trembling wrist, only to see tears forming on his own breastplate, mingling with the morning dew and rolling between the armor leaves. Lu Su gently sprinkled the last of the fine Xiliang wine on the grave. As the stream of wine streaked through the air, the smoke from the incense and candles suddenly twisted into a thin column, carrying his voice up into the clouds: "Madam, may you know that the king has broken through the siege in Chang'an and is now crowned King of Liang, his might awed throughout the land..."

A sudden, howling mountain wind lifted twelve soul banners, their blood-stained war symbols dancing wildly in the mist like living creatures. Shamoke's iron boots crushed the newly planted white chrysanthemums on the grave. Ma Yue, with his face tilted upward, stretched out his hand toward the wind's source—a fluttering piece of faded red velvet, the tassel he had tied on his lapel. A long, drawn-out sigh drifted through the wind, melding the tinkling of the bronze bells atop the stele into a never-ending memorial service on the desolate hill, mingling with wine and tears and seeping deep into the grave.

Shamoke looked at the soul flags tumbling in the wind. Twelve animal-skin flags painted with blood patterns rolled like waves in the mist. The copper bells on the top of the stele were torn by the mountain wind, making a series of crackling sounds, which startled the finger bone beads on his earlobes to tremble. A sigh rolled through his throat, and the sound mixed with the morning mist and scattered among the desolate hills: "That's all. Ma Chao had a narrow escape in Chang'an, and Sally's death... he can't be blamed." The wind lifted the corner of his animal-skin cloak, "It's all fate. Now that he has been named King of Liang, the men of Shanyue remember him as a hero."

Lu Su was about to speak when Shamoke suddenly raised his hand to interrupt him. The blade of his copper-handled axe scratched a deep groove in the new soil beside the grave. "You have done the memorial service," he said, pointing to the figures under the distant pine trees - Da Qiao was adjusting Ma Yue's clothes, Xiao Qiao was holding Zhou Yin's hand, and Sun Shao was squatting nearby, poking dewdrops in the grass with a wooden spear. "Tell Ma Chao that Shanyue doesn't blame him. But Ma Yue, this kid, has to stay here."

His iron boots rolled over the unburned paper money on the grave, and he pointed at the group of children: "Look, Da Qiao and Xiao Qiao are his aunts, Zhou Yin and Sun Shao are his brothers, and these are all relatives who have watched him grow up." The faint sound of tambourines from the village came through the morning mist, and he suddenly laughed, "Here, he can learn military tactics from Gongjin, martial arts from Ziyi, go into the mountains with the old hunter to hunt tigers and bears, climb trees to dig out bird nests, and go down to the river to catch fish. How can he not be happy?"

"But he is the king's bloodline after all..." As Lu Su bowed, the hook of his jade belt scraped against the bronze cup in front of the stele, making a clear sound. Shamoke suddenly squatted down and rubbed a handful of soil with both hands: "Your king is now the King of Liang," he looked towards the clouds in the direction of Chang'an, his voice suddenly becoming hoarse, "I don't know how many princesses he will be able to confer in the future, and there will definitely be ten or eight brothers born in the palace."

A sudden mountain breeze swept across the barren hills, making the soul flags flutter. Shamoke's eyes suddenly reddened, and he came to Ma Yue's side: "I understand the truth that once you enter a noble family, it's like entering a deep sea." His throat rolled as he pulled the child into his arms, "He's an orphan. In that treacherous palace, how can he hide from the knives hidden behind pearl hairpins and jade pendants? In Shanyue's village, at least he can live like a little leopard in the wild. It's fun!"

Lu Su watched Shamoke's back as he leaned on his horse, Yue, and headed for the village gate. Amid the clatter of iron boots, he suddenly understood the loneliness hidden within those wiry arms. When the Shanyue leader had just said, "A noble's sword is harder to defend against than a poisonous arrow in a dense forest," he had been a man who risked his life to protect his children. How could a minister like him refute him? The words welling in his throat finally dissolved into a sigh.

As dusk drifted over the walls of the Shanyue stronghold, pine torches illuminated the meeting hall like daylight. Shamoke passed the hide wineskin among the guests, the aroma of wine mixed with roasted bear meat filling the air. But it couldn't mask Gan Ning's instantaneous tremor upon seeing his wife and son—his wife, Ayue, was tying a Shanyue war skirt on their son, the bronze bells tinkling in unison with the ornaments on his iron spear. In the corner, the orphans of the imperial guards sat silently munching on the barbecue, the firelight illuminating the mourning cloths on their arms, leaving Gan Ning and Lu Su with a heavy heart.

"Of the brothers who came to Shanyue with me back then, I'm the only one left who can still have a child." Gan Ning gulped down a large gulp of liquor, his Adam's apple rolling as the liquid dripped down his stubble onto his breastplate. He looked at Ah Yue's hand wiping the grease from the corner of his son's mouth, a look of deep emotion.

Lu Su placed his wine bowl on the animal-skin table. "The cause of General Sun Ce's death is known," he said, lowering his voice as sparks from his torch landed on the wax seal of the secret letter. "You can take the young master back to Chang'an..." Before he finished speaking, the laughter and scolding of Ma Yue and Sun Shao could be heard from outside the camp. The sound of children imitating the ringing of bells by Shanyue shamans mixed with the night watchmen's drumming, startling the night owls from the beams and making them flutter their wings. Gan Ning suddenly clenched his iron spear, the tip of the spear sparking on the stone slab. "I will stay."