The Eldest Daughter Returns with Power

The north wind whipped up snowflakes that pelted his armor. Si Yunchen raised his hand to wipe away the frost that had formed on his brow bone, the iron gauntlet scraping against his cheek with a teeth-grinding sound. He gazed at Wolf Head Mountain, which was swallowed by thick fog in the distance, when he suddenly heard a crisp "crack" behind him.

"Your Highness, the newly forged horseshoe has cracked." The guard held the broken piece of iron in two, his breath instantly freezing into ice beads.

When Gongsun Ruotang lifted the tent flap, she saw Si Yunchen squatting on the ground piecing together two pieces of scrap iron. She took off her fox fur coat and draped it over his head, her warm, medicinal breath brushing against the back of his neck: "The Northern Rong people use cold iron to forge arrows, and you're going to use this kind of shoddy stuff?"

"Ruo Tang?" Si Yunchen suddenly stood up, his helmet bumping against her chin. "Didn't we agree to wait for each other at Luming Pass..."

"Wait until you're frozen solid?" Gongsun Ruotang ripped open his collar and shoved a scalding hot water bottle inside. "The cotton armor that was delivered three days ago—do I need to take it apart and count how much willow fluff was mixed into the lining?" Her fingertips traced the ice crystals seeping from the seams of the armor. "Those parasites in the Ministry of War should be sent to the front lines to taste what it's like to be mixed with snow and sand."

Si Yunchen held her frostbitten fingers, breathing on them to rub them: "Two shipments of provisions were hijacked. The soldiers are already lucky to be wrapped in willow catkins to keep warm..."

Suddenly, a horn sounded outside the tent, and Gongsun Ruotang drew his sword from his waist. The moment the sword slashed through the tent flap, hundreds of torches suddenly lit up on the snow-covered slope thirty feet away, and the wolf-head banners of the Northern Rong cavalry fluttered wildly in the wind.

"Take the princess away!" Si Yunchen pushed her toward his personal guards, grabbed a spear, and rushed out.

Gongsun Ruotang spun around to avoid the guards' hands, pulling out a black iron wrist guard from the bottom of her medicine chest: "Didn't Yuwen Mo teach you that?" She clicked the mechanism shut, the poisoned silver needles gleaming blue in the moonlight. "The people of Qingyu Manor are never a burden."

The moment the rain of arrows pierced the air, Si Yunchen pulled her behind him. Amidst the muffled thud of the iron arrows piercing the shield, Gongsun Ruotang smelled the blood seeping from the gaps in his armor—that breastplate had indeed failed to protect him from yesterday's sneak attack.

"Lower your head!" She suddenly pressed down on the back of Si Yunchen's neck, and three silver needles flew past his hair. The Northern Rong scout, who was holding a bow a hundred meters away, fell from his horse with a thud, three blue flashes on his throat blending with the snow.

Taking advantage of the moment, Si Yunchen sounded his eagle flute, and the heavily armored cavalry lying in ambush in the icy ditch poured out. Gongsun Ruotang leaped onto her horse, using the hand Si Yunchen had raised to support her, and inserted a poisoned needle into the crossbow: "Southeast, fire!"

As the poisonous smoke and sparks exploded in the enemy ranks, she heard Si Yunchen's laughter carried on the wind: "I should have forged a golden crossbow for Madam..."

"Keep your gold to feed your warhorses!" Gongsun Ruotang tugged at the reins to dodge the stray arrows, and suddenly felt an unusual sensation beneath the armor on his back. Underneath layers of bandages, the fox fur breastplate she had sewn was soaked with blood and ice.

At dawn, Gongsun Ruotang tore open the seventh blood-stained breastplate in the wounded soldiers' camp. When Si Yunchen entered, she was applying the last piece of wound medicine to a soldier's festering wound.

"The Northern Rong have retreated thirty li." Si Yunchen removed his icy face shield, revealing his chapped lips.

Gongsun Ruotang continued pounding medicine without looking up: "Even if we retreat a hundred miles away, it won't change the fact that some people are colluding with the enemy." She tossed out a stack of breastplates soaked in blood, "The cotton lining of each one is mixed with poisonous caltrops; it will cause the wound to fester."

Si Yunchen picked up the fragment, sniffed it, and his pupils suddenly contracted: "Western Region Ghost Cry Vine?"

"The military rations that were supposed to be delivered to the northern frontier three months ago were exchanged for twenty cartloads of this stuff in Ganzhou." Gongsun Ruotang suddenly overturned the medicine basket, scattering dried scorpions and centipede legs all over the ground. "Guess who the grain transport officer is a protégé of?"

The cold wind whipped the tent flaps, and the sunlight filtering through the snow illuminated the murderous intent in Si Yunchen's eyes. Gongsun Ruotang, grinding the poisonous caltrops into powder, suddenly heard him ask, "Where's that silver scale armor you had at the bottom of your trunk?"

"Given to the scouts." She dipped the cloth in poison powder and drew a map. "A secret report, delivered by express courier, states that silk from Jiangnan appeared in the Northern Rong king's camp last night."

Si Yunchen slammed his fist on the medicine table, causing the hemostatic herbs in the ceramic jar to rustle. Gongsun Ruotang grasped his bleeding hand and applied the last bit of wound medicine: "Within fifteen days, I want to see the head of the Minister of War's eldest son."

"Ruotang..."

"Hang it on the gate." She bit off a strip of cloth from her bandage, "to wake the soldiers up."

As dusk fell, Gongsun Ruotang sewed a thirteenth hidden pouch into the inner layer of Si Yunchen's armor. Inside were poisoned silver needles, hemostatic powder, and even a tinderbox wrapped in beeswax. Si Yunchen suddenly said, "The token of love you gave me back then was also stuffed full of hidden weapons like this."

Gongsun Ruotang bit off the end of the thread: "That dagger?"

"A blade that can cut through iron like mud, laced with poison that kills instantly." Si Yunchen turned his wrist guard, revealing a small mechanism on the inside. "It's also engraved with 'The faithless die.'"

The neighing of warhorses came from outside the tent. Gongsun Ruotang patted the breastplate on his chest: "This time it's embroidered with 'Don't Save a Fool.'" The gold thread faintly revealed talisman-like patterns in the candlelight. "If you dare to get injured again, I'll have Yuwen Mo force-feed you a drug to make you mute."

Si Yunchen smiled as he fastened his cloak, when he suddenly touched a hard object inside the lining of his breastplate. The parchment scroll detailed the locations of the water sources for the eighteen tribes of the Northern Rong, and a cinnabar-painted cross was stuck in the vital spot of the Wolf Head King's tent.

"Is Madam planning to wipe out their stronghold?"

"Remember to leave two survivors before you kill them." Gongsun Ruotang tied the poison powder sachet to his belt. "I'll follow the trail to the Ministry of War."

When the bugle call for the night raid sounded again, Gongsun Ruotang stood on the watchtower and released the carrier pigeon.