The sound of wheels rolling past pulled Jiang Xingyan from her thoughts.
This must be the immortal who prayed for rain a month ago.
Since the start of spring, the capital had seen no rainfall.
Drought threatened the young crops, and famine loomed.
Then, a white-haired immortal emerged, offering his own lifespan to defy the heavens and summon several life-saving downpours.
The Emperor, overjoyed, personally appointed him as the Imperial Advisor, granting him authority over the Astronomical Bureau and free access to the Forbidden City.
The Advisor had always kept a low profile—so interrupting court today could only mean something major was afoot.
Emperor Xiao Ao immediately grew solemn, dismissing the usual formalities.
As Jiang Xingyan rose, she caught a glimpse of the mysterious Advisor’s retreating figure.
White hair…?
A childhood memory surfaced.
Shortly after she turned two, her mother passed away.
Her grandfather, pitying her loneliness, brought her many playmates.
Among them was a boy six years her senior—with hair as white as snow.
He usually kept it hidden under a headscarf.
But the day she fell into the pond, he dove in to save her.
When they surfaced, his scarf was gone, revealing those silver strands glistening in the sunlight.
She’d been mesmerized.
Afraid she’d find him strange, the boy avoided her for days.
But secretly, she’d adored that snowy hair.
Later, her grandfather dismissed the servants and took her alone to the capital with Huo Ci.
She never saw the boy again.
Over time, his face blurred in her memory—but the image of his hair, shining like silk under the sun, stayed with her forever.
“…‘Zhun’ signifies accumulation.
Now is the time to stockpile grain, train troops, and prepare—complacency is not an option.”
Xiao Ao pondered. “Would Northern Luo truly disregard mutual interests and risk countless lives by invading?”
Yun Chunfeng fanned himself leisurely, a faint smile on his lips. “Why not dispatch the Embroidered Uniform Guard to investigate, Your Majesty?”
The Emperor fell silent.
The civil officials inwardly scoffed at Yun Chunfeng’s theatrics but maintained respectful expressions.
Since the Advisor’s arrival, the Emperor had relied less on them—they couldn’t afford jealousy now.
The military officers were equally unimpressed.
What were these mystical tricks compared to their battlefield achievements?
Besides, wasn’t this the same man who’d pushed to weaken Huo Ci’s authority and cut military funds?
Now that war loomed, he played the benefactor.
Hah! They weren’t buying it.
Jiang Xingyan, still piecing things together, grasped one thing: Huo Ci wouldn’t be punished yet—because war made him useful.
Disappointment faded as a pressing thought took hold:
When will we switch back?
They can’t possibly expect me to lead armies—I can barely read ledgers!
“…General Huo!”
An elbow from the Imperial Guard commander snapped her back to reality. The Emperor had been calling her.
She’d zoned out completely.
Jiang Xingyan dropped to her knees. “Forgive me, Your Majesty! I was strategizing for potential conflict.”
Xiao Ao nearly rolled his eyes.
He’d seen that expression—puffed cheeks, furrowed brows, one step from chin-in-hand brooding.
Where was the composed general? This looked like a woman stumped by embroidery!
Suppressing irritation, Xiao Ao sighed. “Then enlighten us, General: how should we address the military pay shortage?”
Jiang Xingyan’s mind blanked.
How would I know about military funds?
But claiming ignorance now would mean deceiving the throne.
Under the Emperor’s piercing gaze, she scrambled for an answer.
Military pay means grain… grain needs silver… so ‘shortage’ means empty coffers?
Wait—silver!
Her eyes lit up. “I—ahem—my wife is the last descendant of Jiang Clan, once Jiangnan’s wealthiest family.
Her grandfather left her dozens of shops in the capital, generating millions in annual revenue.
She could contribute half to support the troops, easing the shortage.”
Xiao Ao raised a brow. “The same Jiang family that saved your life, funded your army, and helped you avenge your father?”
Bitterness rose in Jiang Xingyan’s throat. “Yes.”
Everyone remembers.
Except Huo Ci.
Her grandfather had spent fortunes to raise armies, forge weapons, and help him exact vengeance—asking only that he cherish her in return.
She blinked back tears.
Xiao Ya, sensing her distress, patted her cheek with tiny fingers.
Don’t cry, Mama.
At least she had her daughter. Once free of Huo Ci, she’d raise Xiao Ya alone, just as her mother once did.
Her proposal silenced the civil officials.
They’d hoped to lambast Huo Ci for refusing pay cuts—only for him to offer his wife’s dowry instead.
Since when did generals play this card?
Deflated, the scholars retreated while the military men swelled with admiration.
What a paragon of virtue!
Even Xiao Ao nodded approvingly. “Such loyalty merits recognition. Lady Jiang shall be ennobled as Second-Rank Commandery Lady, sharing your stipend.”
Jiang Xingyan kowtowed. “Thank you, Your Majesty!”
Though honored, she remained beneath her mother-in-law’s first-rank title—still unable to stand tall.
Then Yun Chunfeng’s serene voice cut in: “Your Majesty, promoting General Huo to First-Rank would further deter Northern Luo.”
The Emperor considered it. With Huo Ci already controlling the army, what difference did a title make?
Better to grant favors that ensured his loyalty.
“Very well. General Huo is hereby promoted to First-Rank Guardian-General of the North, with Lady Jiang elevated accordingly.”
Jiang Xingyan nearly forgot to thank him.
Just days ago, I was a bullied daughter-in-law.
Now, I’m my mother-in-law’s equal—with imperial backing to reclaim my shops!
The military men, straightforward as ever, grudgingly admitted the Advisor had done well.
The civil officials, however, exchanged alarmed glances.
Had Yun Chunfeng been possessed? Since when did he help Huo Ci?
Xiao Ao watched Jiang Xingyan’s undisguised joy with amusement.
So easily pleased by hollow honors—hardly the schemer they fear.
Huo Ci was a blade, and blades only needed steady hands to wield them.
As court adjourned, only the censors left scowling. Everyone else was satisfied.
Jiang Xingyan floated through the palace gates amid congratulations—until a clear voice stopped her.
“General Huo, a moment!”
The Advisor’s young acolyte approached, balancing a stack of books and an ornate box.
“Sir sends medicine to calm wind and fright in children—consult the imperial physician before use.
These strategy texts are also gifts, for your careful study.”
Seeing her arms full with Xiao Ya, the boy helped carry everything to her guards before bowing away.
How thoughtful of the Advisor, Jiang Xingyan mused.
But Xin Zhui narrowed his eyes at the retreating figure. “Why’s his lackey giving us things?”
As Jiang Xingyan mounted her horse, she shrugged. “Just some military books—”
THUD!
Xin Zhui hurled the volumes to the ground and spat.
“That weasel! Bringing ‘gifts’? Ha!”
He glared at the discarded books.
“General, he’s mocking you—implying you can’t read battle tactics!”