The Eldest Daughter Returns with Power

In the depths of winter, a biting north wind howled and raged across the land. Large, fluffy snowflakes fell in abundance, like cotton sacks accidentally overturned in the heavens, drifting and scattering freely.

The first snow of the twelfth lunar month, carrying endless chill and desolation, heavily weighed down the majestic palace eaves, adding a touch of cold loneliness to the originally solemn and majestic palace.

Inside the Xuanzheng Hall, the brazier was burning brightly, but as soon as the hall door opened, a cold wind swept in, carrying the Northern Rong envoy with it. The envoy was tall and burly, wearing a heavy fur cloak, and the soles of his boots were covered with ice shards. With each step, the ice shards collided with the ground, making a crisp, chilling sound.

Inside the hall, Si Yunchen, dressed in a bright yellow dragon robe, sat upright before the dragon throne. His large hand gently held Chenghuan's soft little hand, guiding her as she wrote in vermilion ink. The vermilion brush moved slowly across the memorial, and under Si Yunchen's guidance, she drew a crooked, endearing rabbit.

Upon seeing this adorable appearance, Xiao Chenghuan burst into giggles, her eyes crinkling like crescent moons. She excitedly rubbed the rouge from her face onto the sleeve of her father's dragon robe, instantly staining the sleeve with a faint blush.

In this warm and leisurely moment, the loud voice of the Northern Rong envoy suddenly rang out: "Your Highness, the King of Northern Rong wishes to marry Princess Chang Le in order to establish a lasting friendship between our two nations." The voice was like a thunderclap, exploding throughout the hall. Before the envoy's words had even faded, the wolf-hair brush tightly gripped in Si Yunchen's hand, as if unable to withstand the sudden impact, snapped in two with a "crack."

The sudden noise startled Xiao Chenghuan, who trembled all over. She hurriedly burrowed into her father's warm embrace. The dragon whiskers embroidered with gold thread gently brushed against her pink cheeks, making her feel ticklish. But at this moment, she was filled with fear and didn't care about such things.

Si Yunchen's expression hardened, and his originally gentle gaze instantly turned sharp as an eagle. He gently handed the frightened child to the wet nurse who was waiting nearby and stood up.

The dark dragon-patterned cloak swept lightly across the steps as he moved, creating a gentle breeze. His gaze was piercing, fixed on the Northern Rong envoy, and he spoke coldly, "My daughter has just turned three this year." His words carried an undeniable authority and anger. "The Northern Rong King does indeed know how to calculate birth dates." The envoy seemed unfazed by this imposing presence, calmly presenting a letter of state inlaid with wolf fangs.

The official letter was made of sheepskin, and with his movement, a strong, pungent odor wafted out, instantly filling the hall. Just then, Gongsun Ruotang slowly raised his hand and lifted the gilded charcoal cage beside him.

In an instant, sparks flew everywhere. One spark landed squarely on the precious Persian carpet, and with a "hiss," a charred hole appeared in the carpet.

Gongsun Ruotang's eyebrows furrowed, her beautiful eyes filled with murderous intent. Her fingertips lightly traced the shocking bloody fingerprints on the official letter. Suddenly, she lashed out and slammed the letter into the envoy's face, her voice icy and chilling: "Princess Huayang, whom we sent ten years ago, where does she rank in the Northern Rong royal court now? My concubine is destined to fly kites in the streets of Chang'an!"

Si Yunchen's anger was already burning fiercely and could no longer be suppressed. He kicked the dragon table in front of him with a loud crash. The table was knocked to the side and the jade paperweight on it flew out and crashed heavily onto the dragon pillar with a dull thud, as if it were an expression of Si Yunchen's anger.

His eyes widened in fury as he roared at the envoy, "Go back and tell your master that if he dares to mention the word 'marriage alliance' again, I will personally lead troops to the royal court to teach him to read!" His voice echoed in the hall, lingering for a long time, full of imperial dominance and determination.

The biting north wind, carrying fine, sharp snowflakes, rushed straight into the majestic and solemn palace gates.

Inside the hall, candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows among the carved beams and painted rafters. Gongsun Ruotang, with her graceful figure, was clad in a magnificent robe that accentuated her dignified elegance, yet her eyes burned with a resolute flame.

She bent down, her slender fingers gently picking up the letter of state symbolizing the negotiations between the two countries from the table, and without the slightest hesitation, threw it directly into the blazing charcoal brazier beside her.

In an instant, the flames seemed to be infused with boundless power, and with a "whoosh," they shot up to more than half a person's height, their intense light instantly engulfing half of her face.

Bathed in the flickering firelight, her skin seemed to be coated with a magnificent golden glow, as beautiful as peach blossoms, breathtakingly beautiful, yet exuding an undeniable majesty.

She tilted her head slightly, her voice clear and cold, echoing in the empty hall: "I have carefully prepared ten carts of medical books and grain seeds, and will return with the delegation tomorrow." The Northern Rong envoy standing to the side, dressed in exotic attire, had a stern face, but his eyes revealed a hint of greed.

His gaze, which had been fixed on the official document gradually curling and turning black in the charcoal brazier, slowly moved upwards and settled on the phoenix hairpin in Gongsun Ruotang's hair, which swayed gently with her movements. The hairpin was exquisitely crafted, inlaid with gemstones, and emitted a faint glow in the dimly lit hall.

The envoy's lips curled into a strange smile. Suddenly, he let out a sinister laugh, which sounded particularly abrupt in the silent hall, like the cry of an owl in the cold night: "Does the Crown Princess know that the men of the Northern Rong are most skilled at taming horses? That three-year-old foal..." He deliberately dragged out the last syllable, his tone full of provocation and implication, as if he wanted to use the matter of taming horses to imply some unspeakable intention.

Before the words were finished, a cold light flashed across the hall like lightning.

It turned out to be a dagger inlaid with dazzling gems, carrying a chilling aura, which flew past the envoy's ear at lightning speed, and with a "thud", it firmly embedded itself in the beam behind him.

The hilt of the dagger trembled slightly, emitting a faint buzzing sound, announcing this sudden warning.

Yuwen Mo strode in with an elegant and unrestrained air. The silver chain on his wrist jingled with his movements, each step firm and powerful. The soles of his boots were still covered with the unique medicinal dregs of the Imperial Medical Academy, emitting a faint medicinal fragrance.

He slightly raised his chin, his eyes filled with unruliness and arrogance, and coldly said, "Coincidentally, this young master is most skilled at taming animals." The contempt in his tone was undisguised, directly refuting the envoy's subtle provocation.

Just as the tense atmosphere intensified, a brightly colored kite, like a fairy who had strayed into the mortal world, drifted gracefully from outside the hall into the hall.

The kite was carefully made of colorful silk in the shape of a butterfly, with delicate patterns painted on its wings. Even in the dim light of the hall, it shimmered with a unique brilliance.

The kite twirled in the air, finally landing squarely on the envoy's magnificent golden crown. Immediately afterward, a small, toddling figure came stumbling after it—it was Cheng Huan.

The little girl was exquisitely beautiful, her cheeks slightly flushed from running. With her big, watery eyes wide open, she saw the kite hanging on the envoy's golden crown. She paused for a moment, then giggled and clapped her hands, calling out in her childish voice, "Big horse! Ride a big horse!" In her innocent mind, the envoy's tall figure, paired with the golden crown with the kite, looked just like the big horse she usually rode.

Seeing this, Gongsun Ruotang quickly stepped forward and gently picked up her daughter. She took a candied plum from a plate and put it into Chenghuan's pink little mouth. Then she raised her head, her gaze calm but with a hint of coldness, and looked at the envoy, saying slowly, "If Your Excellency likes Chang'an, I will reserve a seat for you to play the pipa at the Jiaofangsi."

These words, though seemingly polite, were actually barbed, implying that if the envoy continued to act recklessly, he would be treated like a performer for others' amusement.

That night, inside the East Palace, the underfloor heating was scorching hot, and warmth permeated every inch of the air. Si Yunchen sat at his desk, the soft lamplight shining on him and revealing his slightly furrowed brows.

He held his daughter Chenghuan's little clothes in his hand, his eyes somewhat dazed, as if he were deep in thought.

Gongsun Ruotang moved gracefully to his side, her slender fingers removing the gold hairpin from her hair and gently adjusting the lamp wick, instantly making the flickering flame even brighter.

She sighed softly and said, "Second Senior Brother sent word that the Northern Rong suffered a white calamity this year. Their envoy's true purpose in coming here is not to curry favor, but to probe the strength of our dynasty." Upon hearing this, Si Yunchen slowly raised his head, a complex expression flashing in his deep eyes. He suddenly reached out and tightly grasped Gongsun Ruotang's wrist.

His voice trembled slightly, tinged with lingering fear and worry: "I know. If that dagger had been just half an inch off today..." He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning behind his words was clear: if the dagger had been just half an inch off, Gongsun Ruotang would have been in great danger.

The night in late spring was as still as water.

Outside the window, a gentle breeze rustled the windowpanes, carrying Chenghuan's innocent murmurs in her sleep. The little girl was fast asleep, clutching her cloth tiger tightly in her arms, her pink lips murmuring, "Candied hawthorn..." Her voice was soft and sweet, with a touch of childlike innocence.

Inside the room, Gongsun Ruotang, dressed in simple white robes, stood gracefully. She was intently sweeping the ashes of the imperial edict into the incense burner, her movements gentle yet resolute.

That letter, bearing witness to numerous disputes and negotiations, has now turned to ashes, marking the end of an era.

Wisps of smoke rose into the air, and in the dim candlelight, Gongsun Ruotang's lips curled into a slight smile as she softly said, "Tomorrow, have the Ministry of War repaint the discarded armor and display it on the official road to bask in the sun." Her voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable decisiveness, as if she were planning a silent game of chess.

Three days later, the sun shone brightly over the capital. The delegation departed the capital, and twenty carriages drove out of the Golden Gate in a grand procession. The wheels rolled, raising clouds of dust.

Gongsun Ruotang stood tall and straight on the city wall, her magnificent robes fluttering in the wind. Her sharp gaze watched the envoys sitting in their carriages, glancing frequently at the "brand new" weapon racks displayed along the official road, a hint of cunning flashing in her eyes.

As the delegation's figures receded into the distance, she turned to look at Yuwen Mo beside her, her expression filled with trust and entrustment, and said, "I'll trouble you, Senior Brother, to make a trip to the Northern Border and deliver a batch of genuine Xuan Tie armor to the Zhenbei Army."

Yuwen Mo's lips curled into a smile as he tossed the medicine bottle in his hand with effortless grace, then nimbly mounted his horse. Just then, Cheng Huan's kite drifted gracefully over the city wall.

The kite was made in the shape of a colorful butterfly, with the words "Father and Mother" written crookedly on its wings. The handwriting was childish but full of deep affection.

Upon seeing this, Yuwen Mo cracked his whip and laughed heartily, his voice cheerful: "This little girl's handwriting is just like her father's." With that, he spurred his horse, and the steed neighed as it galloped off toward the northern border.

On the spring equinox, the warm sun shines across the earth, and all things revive.

Good news arrived from the north, and the joyous tidings spread throughout the capital in an instant.

The so-called "new weapons" looted by the Northern Rong broke apart on the battlefield, like fragile rotten wood.

It turned out that those weapons were outdated and had only been repainted to deceive the enemy; they were utterly useless.

The Zhenbei Army seized the opportunity and, like a tiger emerging from the mountains, took the chance to recapture the two border cities.

Inside the palace, Si Yunchen sat in his study, beaming, holding Chenghuan as he read the battle report. The little girl stared at the words on the report with her big, round eyes, full of curiosity.

When she saw the words "annihilate 30,000 enemies," the little girl suddenly stretched out her little hand, pointed at those words, and said in a childish voice, "Beat...beat the bad guys!" Her voice was clear and crisp, carrying the purest understanding of justice from a child.

Si Yunchen couldn't help but laugh out loud and gently patted Chenghuan's head. Gongsun Ruotang stood aside, watching this heartwarming scene, a smile also on her lips.

She folded the good news into a paper boat and gently placed it into Taiye Pond. The paper boat floated on the shimmering surface of the pond. Chenghuan excitedly broke free from Si Yunchen's embrace and chased after the paper boat, her laughter echoing in the wind.

Gongsun Ruotang watched Cheng Huan's departing figure and suddenly whispered, "It's time to send a letter to Princess Huayang." Si Yunchen gently wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin softly resting on her hair, and asked softly, "What should I write in the letter?"

Gongsun Ruotang's gaze followed the paper boat as it gradually sank into the shimmering waves. She slowly said, "Write about the newly opened rouge shop in Chang'an, and the locust flower cake on Zhuque Street." She paused slightly, her eyes filled with tenderness and longing, "Write about her little niece, who can now recite 'If only the Flying General of Longcheng were here.'"