As the Grand General of Western Zhou, Huo Ci’s appearance, character, and capabilities were beyond reproach.
The only thing his soldiers ever lamented was his notoriously low alcohol tolerance—the man was a complete lightweight.
Even during his own wedding celebrations, Xin Zhui had to drink all the toasts on his behalf.
The one exception was a special rice wine bestowed by the Emperor himself; unable to refuse, Huo Ci drank a single cup, and immediately began to stagger. Xin Zhui hurriedly helped the General to the bridal chamber, amused to hear him calling out his wife’s name from inside.
This story, straight from Xin Zhui’s mouth, quickly spread throughout the entire army.
The captains were all eager to share a drink with the General, curious to see how the serious, stern man acted when drunk.
Unfortunately, the first decree Huo Ci issued upon returning from his wedding was a prohibition on alcohol.
Any soldier caught drinking without reporting it would face military punishment: twenty strokes of the cane for a single cup of wine.
If their superior officer knowingly allowed it, the punishment would be doubled, and the officer would be expelled from the army.
Xin Zhui had only reported a gathering of about ten people. He hadn’t expected to spontaneously invite more later, each time thinking it was the last one. Now, they all lay drunk on the banquet hall floor, without exception.
He was the only one left who hadn’t touched a drop.
But since he couldn’t possibly defeat the General in a fight, he had to resort to a risky move: try to get some answers first.
“Talk! If you don’t talk, I’ll kill you! Consider it revenge for the General!”
Jiang Xingyan’s previously unburdened mood was once again clouded by this sudden hostility.
So, no matter what positive changes she made, if the soul inside wasn’t their beloved General, it was an unforgivable crime?
She sat back down in the chair, allowing Xin Zhui’s sharp dagger to press against her skin, her expression icy cold.
Xin Zhui felt a tremor of fear. His instinctive deference to Huo Ci caused his movements to stiffen for a split second.
Seizing that blink of an opportunity, Jiang Xingyan flicked her fingers against the blade resting at her neck, snapping the dagger clean in two.
Crack!
In one fluid motion, she grabbed his arm and threw him over her shoulder in a perfect judo flip.
Before Xin Zhui could even react, the world spun around him. A loud thud later, sharp pain exploded across his back. He grunted in pain.
Before he could counter, Jiang Xingyan flipped nimbly like a sparrowhawk, landing atop him, one hand gripping his throat.
“Heh, just like your General, fond of bullying helpless women, are you?” Xin Zhui’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at the General’s face. Through the General’s furious eyes, he seemed to glimpse the image of a grievously wronged woman.
“You’re so perceptive, how come you never noticed your General is an unfaithful, ungrateful ‘dutiful son’?” Jiang Xingyan’s expression grew increasingly frenzied.
“Or is it that in the eyes of lofty men like you, the suffering of women in the inner chambers is utterly insignificant, not worth a fraction of the hardships endured on the battlefield?”
She let out a cold laugh, her thoughts tumbling out disjointedly. “Right, your mothers are always right, it’s always someone else’s fault. So cunning and sharp on the battlefield, but the moment you return home, you become stupid as pigs!”
The more she spoke, the angrier she became. Simply pinning Xin Zhui down wasn’t enough anymore. She hauled him upright, shaking him with each furious question.
“So, you never saw the fresh and old scars that occasionally showed on my wrists!”
“You never wondered why your mother claimed I lived a life of luxury, yet I was skin and bones!”
“You preferred the false, hypocritical peace of the inner household over investigating thoroughly to clear my name!”
“Your mother killed Xiao Ya, but you blamed everything on me!”
“Do you even have a heart?!”
Xin Zhui’s face turned a purplish hue, half from being choked, half from shame.
He thought he finally understood who the soul inside the General’s body was.
Jiang Xingyan gave a desolate laugh and released her grip. Xin Zhui fell to the ground, coughing violently.
“It was all a lie! Every courteous, proper act you put on in front of my grandfather was just an act, you were deceiving him!”
Mentioning her grandfather made Jiang Xingyan’s tears flow uncontrollably.
“Didn’t you swear in front of him that you would be good to me all your life?”
“You lied to him! You lied to me!”
“You got Xiao Ya killed!”
“Huo Ci, doesn’t your conscience hurt?”
“Aren’t you afraid the oath will come true? That you’ll be buried under yellow sand, your body incomplete, and die a wretched death?!”
Her fists pounded down on the utterly stunned Xin Zhui. Each word, each accusation felt like a blow to his very nerves.
In his memory, the graceful, elegant figure from the General’s wedding day and the haggard woman he had seen a few days ago at the General’s residence simply refused to align.
It seemed she had suffered greatly.
But that couldn’t be right. Why would the General not care?
What exactly had happened?
Xin Zhui’s head buzzed. He had always been meticulous, and now all the details that had seemed odd at the time came flooding back.
“General.”
Before he could sort through them, an ethereal, cold voice sounded from the entrance of the banquet tent.
Xin Zhui turned his head to see Yun Chunfeng.
“It is time to return.”
Xin Zhui wanted to stop them, but his body refused to move.
Jiang Xingyan, feeling dizzy and hazy, seemed to hear her grandfather calling her: “Yanyan, come back. Go back and sleep well. Everything will be alright. Yanyan, it’s all my fault for misjudging his character and letting you suffer.”
Jiang Xingyan shook her head wildly. “No, Grandfather, it’s his fault! It’s all his fault!”
Xin Zhui could only watch as the General, moving like a sleepwalker, approached Yun Chunfeng.
The mystic waved his hand, muttering incantations, and directed the General to stagger away.
“Don’t… don’t go… let me explain—” Darkness clouded Xin Zhui’s vision, and he lost consciousness.
Jiang Xingyan felt incredibly tired, the kind of exhaustion that makes you feel you might never wake up.
She didn’t know how long she walked, but finally, there was a place to lie down.
She found a comfortable position, curling up on the camp cot in the tent.
Despite all the wine she’d drunk, her eyelids were heavy, but her mind remained strangely clear. It felt like there was something she needed to do, but she just couldn’t remember what.
A gentle breeze drifted in, like the puff of air from the palm-leaf fan her grandfather used to wave for her during summer afternoons in her childhood.
Comforted, she closed her eyes and, soothed by the rhythmic caress of the wind, fell into a deep sleep.
Meanwhile, the corpse of Jin Zhu, still haphazardly left in the rear courtyard of the Huo residence, had a thought: Weren’t they supposed to find someone to chop me up this afternoon? Did they forget? Is no one going to speak up for me?