Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

The July scorch scorched the ancient Hangu Pass Road. Lu Su's blue horse trotted over sun-scorched gravel, the steam rising from its hooves mingling with the chirping of cicadas. The wax sealing the secret letter in his sleeve had softened with sweat. The jar of green plum wine in front of Zhou Shan's saddle was oozing coolness, the condensed water dripping down the Shu brocade seal and leaving dark marks on the saddle pad. Wei Yan, who was traveling with him, suddenly pulled the reins. The insect-repellent wormwood wrapped around his iron bow swept through the scorched grass beside the road, startling a few dormant grasshoppers.

"Sir, do you know why the Grand Commander sent me to accompany General Zhou?" Wei Yan's black iron armor was whitened by the scorching sun. He pointed to the dust rising from the distant valley and said, "My personal guards have prepared ice water at the front post."

"I'd rather stay with the Shanyue to protect the young master," Lu Su said, looking at Wei Yan. "I believe the commander-in-chief sent General Wei Yan here precisely to protect us." Before he finished speaking, Zhou Shan had already dismounted. The fragments of Shanyue moss on the soles of his boots, mixed with the hot sand, left a dark green mark on the ground. "Sir, you are indeed very perceptive."

"This is a letter from the Grand Commander to the Prince of Liang," Zhou Shan's fingertips brushed the wax on the edge of the letter raft. Lu Su suddenly sighed and looked at the horizon, which was distorted by the scorching sun: "Since the spring day of the mission, I have been away from Chang'an for half a year..."

Thousands of miles away in Shanyue, Gan Ning was putting soft armor soaked in mugwort juice on Ma Yue. A sudden July rain had just passed, and steam was still rising from the cracks in the stone slabs of the martial arts arena. White mist rose from where the child's bare feet had stepped, startling the mosquito repellent sachets hanging under the eaves to sway gently. "The dog days of summer in Chang'an can melt a copper basin," Gan Ning wiped the prickly heat on the back of Ma Yue's neck with a hand towel, and rubbed his fingertips against the wolf tooth necklace on the child's wrist. "Here, it's hot and humid." He suddenly looked at the ferns outside the village, wet by the thunderstorm, with water dripping from the leaves. "Here, fortunately, there's the mung bean soup cooked by your Aunt A Yue, and the mountain pears hidden in the ice cave by the old hunter."

Chang'an in July exuded a sense of prosperity, but as the scorching sun reached its climax, Ma Chao grew increasingly restless in the Liang Prince's Palace, a renovated Han Dynasty palace. He paced the golden-bricked meeting room, the hem of his dark brocade robe sweeping across the floor, stirring up wisps of dust that drifted in the light. Lu Su and Gan Ning had been in Jiangdong for months, and even more than a month had passed since they returned from their mission to Hanzhong to contact Li Ru. Yet, the Jiangdong envoys remained as lost as a pebble at the bottom of the Bashui River, with no response. He stroked the cool bronze paperweight on his desk, worried not only about the truth surrounding Sun Ce's death but also about Ma Dai, who had been dispatched to Xiliang. Before his departure, he had specifically instructed him to arrange for soldiers to escort his mother, sister, and other family members back to Chang'an, but he had received no word yet. He wondered if the sandstorms of the Hexi Corridor had hindered their progress.

As he was concentrating on the map of Xiliang hanging on the wall, a bronze bell from the eaves suddenly rang sharply. The guards arrived to report that Lu Su's convoy had arrived at Baqiao. Ma Chao's eyes burned with anxiety. While dressing, he solemnly ordered his attendants: "Go and invite Bai'er and Miss Zhen Mi, and then send for Zhang Qiying and Zhang Fubao to go to the city gate." He paused and added, "Bring the Hetian jade Qilin lock and animal-patterned silver bracelet from the storeroom, and bring the Liang prince's carriage frame, and have the mistress and the young master sit together."

In the shadows of the Vermillion Bird Gate, Dong Bai and Zhen Mi were already waiting beside the carved carriage. The gilded hairpins at Dong Bai's temples trembled with her breath. In her hand, a lacquer box held a newly forged gilded longevity lock, its plate inlaid with tiny sapphires. The embroidery on the cuffs of Zhen Mi's plain kimono was lifted by the wind. Inside the box were stacked several sets of tiger-head aprons made of Jiangnan brocade, with cinnabar talismans sewn between the stitches to ward off evil. The Zhang Qiying sisters tied five-colored silk ribbons to the brocade box. The Tai Chi seals on the sleeves of their Taoist robes were faintly visible in the blazing sun. The carved peach wood talisman dangling from the end of the ribbons was the "peace covenant" used by the Five Pecks of Rice Sect to bless children. The four of them gazed toward the Bashui Bridge. The sparrows perched under the corridor seemed to sense their anticipation, fluttering their wings and circling beneath the eaves.

The Ba Bridge was steaming, its stone slabs scorched by the sun. Even the drooping willow branches had wilted into dark green ropes. Wei Yan reined in his warhorse, his black iron armor gleaming white in the blazing sun. He nearly knocked the jar of green plum wine off his saddle when he spotted the gilded cloak beneath the Vermillion Bird Gate from afar. "Look, sir!" He tugged on Lu Su's reins, the splash of water from his horse's hooves startling red dragonflies from the water. "The Prince of Liang is standing at the city gate himself!"

Lu Su clutched the softened wax seal in his sleeve, his knuckles denting the bamboo raft. He stared at Wei Yan's smug face, his Adam's apple rolling with unspoken words—this journey wasn't smooth, the mistress had died, and the young master hadn't been brought back. How should he tell his lord?

As the horse's hooves shattered the reflection of the Ba River, Ma Chao had already strode forward, his cloak sweeping across the mossy bridge, startling a few grasshoppers. "You've worked hard, Zijing!" He held Lu Su's hand, his gaze passing over the caravan. "Where are Sally and Ma Yue?"

Wei Yan rushed forward and knelt on one knee, his helmet hitting the stone slab with a dull thud: "My king, do you still remember me?"

Ma Chao looked at him, helped him up and said, "Hahaha! Wei Wenchang, why are you here? What are you talking about? How could I not remember you? We fought side by side in Jiangdong. Among the generals of Jiangdong, you and Taishi Ziyi are the bravest!" Wei Yan was overjoyed.

Zhou Shan came forward to pay his respects again, and Ma Chao exchanged a few words with him. Then he turned to Lu Su and caught a glimpse of the brocade boxes carried by Dong Bai and the three women. "My wife and children, do I have to go and invite them myself?"

Dong Bai chuckled as she shook the gilded hairpins at her temples, and the gilded longevity lock in the brocade box jingled. "Your Majesty, there's some truth in what you say. Sister Sally has come a long way, so it's only right that you personally greet her." The laughter of the three women behind her mingled with the chirping of cicadas, but it made Lu Su's hand, clutching the letter, tremble suddenly.

"That's all," Ma Chao took off his cloak and threw it to his guards, "I will personally drive the carriage to meet them." Before he finished speaking, Lu Su suddenly fell to his knees, his forehead hitting the hot stone slab: "Your Majesty, please allow me to report! The trip to Jiangdong was full of unexpected events, and the mistress and the young master were unable to be brought back..."

The cicadas chirping in the willow trees beside the bridge suddenly stopped. Dong Bai's longevity lock slammed against the carriage floor, while Ma Chao's outstretched hand froze in mid-air, his fingertips barely three inches from Lu Su's trembling shoulder armor.

The July heat in Chang'an was sweltering. Ma Chao's fingertips trembled as he asked, "What happened? How are they, mother and son?" Lu Su crouched on the scorching ground, gazing at the dazzling sunlight outside the eaves. He felt a chill run through his body, unable to rise. Dong Bai, noticing the anxiety burning between Ma Chao's brows, gently advised, "Your Majesty, the weather is scorching. Why don't you ask the gentleman to return to the palace for a detailed discussion?" Ma Chao suppressed his emotion and rode back with the others.

In the meeting room, ice cubes sizzled in a bronze mirror, melting into water, but the gloom in the room couldn't be contained. Ma Chao pressed his questions, and Lu Su laid out all the doubts surrounding Sun Ce's death: "How was Sun Ce ambushed? How did he die of the poison?... Zhou Gongjin analyzed that it might be related to Sun Quan." Ma Chao slammed his fist on the table, causing the jade paperweight to bounce an inch. "Sun Quan is such a wicked man! He actually murdered his own brother! How is Gongjin now?"

Lu Su sighed, "Mr. Zhou was misunderstood by Madam Sun, and is temporarily protecting Sun Ce's son and defending Wu Commandery." He paused, his voice choking with sobs. "Even more heartbreakingly, Madam Sally has met with misfortune while rescuing Sun Shao..." Before he finished speaking, the four women were already in tears. Ma Chao's eyes flushed red, and he slammed his fist down on the edge of the table, making a muffled thud. "Sally... how can I... make amends?" Outside the hall, the noisy chirping of cicadas, mingled with Ma Chao's suppressed grief, solidifying into a heavy echo in the summer heat.

In the meeting room, the muffled thud of Ma Chao's fist slamming down the edge of the table startled the dust from the beams. The four women, watching his reddened eyes in grief, felt a sympathetic connection. Dong Bai's fingertips, clutching the silk handkerchief, were pale as the corners of the handkerchief, embroidered with twin lotus flowers, were soaked with tears. Zhen Mi's plain sleeve trembled slightly, and a corner of the tiger-head apron she had given Ma Yuebei slipped from her sleeve, the cinnabar talisman gleaming dimly in the candlelight. The hems of Zhang Qiying and her sister's Taoist robes trembled as they stood side by side. Zhang Fubao crushed the peach wood amulet in his hand, the wood chips mingling with his tears and falling onto the blue bricks. As the four bowed their heads, the golden hairpins at their temples and the tassels of their Taoist caps swayed gently. Tears dripped down their cheeks onto their lapels, staining the brocade and linen darkly. The only sound in the hall was the sizzling sound of melting ice and suppressed sobs, weaving a mournful veil in the scorching air.

The heat in the conference room was stagnant. Dong Bai saw Ma Chao's shoulders trembling slightly with grief. She raised her bare hand, her fingertips just touching the gilded animal pattern on his black armor shoulder plate, then withdrew half an inch due to the scorching heat of the armor. She lowered her eyes to wipe away the tears. As her silk handkerchief swept across the desk, it wiped the ink stain Ma Chao had just made into a winding bloodstain. "Sir, just said...Where is Young Master Ma Yue?"

Lu Su's fingers dug into the cracks of the blue bricks as he lay on them. When he looked up, the blood scab on the wound on his forehead was darkened by sweat. "Chief Shamoke... He said that the young master is the lady's only flesh and blood," his Adam's apple rolled, and his voice suddenly became hoarse like the friction of sand and gravel. "He also said that 'once you enter a noble family, it's like entering a deep sea,' and that a motherless child should follow the master..."

Before he could finish his words, Ma Chao suddenly looked up. His eyes, once filled with tears, were now frozen with ice. Veins throbbed at his temples, and his iron fingers gripped the armrests, making a "crackling" sound. The arc of his mouth, a smile, startled the sparrows perched under the eaves, causing them to flutter and knock over the copper dish of water. "Deep as the sea?" he repeated, his voice rising sharply like a sword drawn from its sheath. "My own mansion can't accommodate my own son?!"

Dong Bai instinctively took a half step back, the gilded longevity lock he'd kept for Ma Yue clanging against the screen. Suddenly, Ma Chao rose, his black armor sweeping across the screen, knocking off a piece of gold foil that landed right in the ice mirror in front of Lu Su, staining the melted water into floating gold fragments. "Guards!" His fingers bulged with veins, his knuckles leaving pale marks on the jade disk. "Send Mr. Li Ru, Mr. Jia Xu, and Mr. Xu Shu to discuss matters—"

His voice abruptly paused. He gazed at the columns outside, twisted by the scorching sun. He suddenly ripped off the golden crown that held his hair, his tangled black hair covering half his ferocious face. As the guards on duty pushed open the carved lattice door, they saw the Prince of Liang's hand trembling violently around the hilt of his sword. At that moment, the ice in the bronze mirrors in the corners of the conference room shattered with a "crack," sending shards of ice mixed with blood splashing onto the bamboo slips containing "The Prince of Liang's Domination."

Ma Chao's forehead veins throbbed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the hilt of his sword. He then said in a deep voice, "I'd like to inform all the generals that the Xiliang cavalry have been resting for over half a year, and it's time to stretch their muscles!"

The guards saw the corners of his eyes turn red, and the leading guard hurriedly bowed, cold sweat oozing from his neck under his helmet: "I will obey the king's order!" After saying this, he did not dare to ask any more questions and turned and hurried away.

Dusk deepened outside the corridor. The hurried footsteps of the imperial guards thudded against the palace walls, startling the flocks of birds roosting under the eaves. From the conference room came the loud bang of a desk overturning, mixed with the "crackling" sound of shattering ice, which swirled into a chilling murderous intent in the scorching night wind.