Chapter Forty-Two: A Lifetime of Peace

When Yu Yang was less than ten paces from Lie Chang’an, she stopped, unwilling to come any closer. The man before her wielded his sword with effortless grace, his movements fluid as water, a clear sign of formidable inner strength and extraordinary skill. No wonder her father had said that even after sparring with him that night, he had gained no advantage; it was only by relying on more seasoned swordsmanship that he had succeeded in a sneak attack, nearly delivering a fatal blow.

General Chang’an. That was how his subordinates had addressed him that night, as her father recalled. The winds had howled beneath a moonless sky, and though her father hadn’t seen the man’s face clearly, he remembered that title spoken aloud, and later learned that the General, held in high esteem by the people, bore the surname Lie.

Last night, the maid named Jasmine had called him the same—General Chang’an. It was now clear: in her haste, she had saved the wrong man. She had mistaken the crown prince for General Chang’an.

She had spent the morning downstairs, scrutinizing both men, trying to discern which was the one she sought. Both were striking in appearance, dignified in bearing, clad in splendid robes with swords at their sides, each a master of martial arts—making it impossible to distinguish between them.

Thus, when the fire broke out so suddenly the night before, she had seen a man collapse and, fearing he might be General Chang’an, had rushed to save him without hesitation. As luck would have it, she rescued the crown prince instead.

Had she known his true identity, she would have let the flames consume him without a second thought.

What a bitter regret.

Still, there was progress; at the very least, she had now confirmed the true identity of the man she sought. General Chang’an, surname Lie, given name Chang’an. In another life, Gao Lie. Lie Chang’an.

Her father had warned her that such coincidences were rare, but still, one could not ignore the slightest possibility. If Lie Chang’an really was Gao Lie… They could not afford to let any chance slip by. It was for this reason her father had sent her to verify his identity.

She could still recall her father’s words from that day, vivid and clear:

“I remember the night I fled with Gao Lie in my arms. He was still an infant, and when I handed him over to that peasant couple, I saw with my own eyes a crescent-shaped birthmark on his right chest. After that, I had General Song escort them out of the city. All these years, I have never found any trace of General Song. If he still lives, he would surely seek us out, but I fear he is no longer among the living. As for the peasant couple, survival was uncertain in those war-torn days; the odds were grim.”

“If General Song and the couple both perished, how could the infant Gao Lie have survived? For years, I never dared hope he lived. Yet—what if? What if he defied fate and survived? What if this Lie Chang’an is truly him?”

“I have lived most of my life, and only this one wish remains: I must seize every possible opportunity. If Gao Lie lives, if Lie Chang’an is truly him, then Heaven has not forsaken our former dynasty!”

“Yang’er, remember: as you approach him, you must never reveal your true identity. Be cautious in all things, and do not let him grow suspicious. If it turns out he is not Gao Lie, and your identity is exposed, given his unwavering loyalty to the Li dynasty, it would mean certain death for us.”

“But if the crescent birthmark is on his right chest—a place so private—how can I, as a woman, possibly confirm his identity?”

“Yang’er, that is exactly why I must impress this upon you. If you must, and there is no other way, you must take a dangerous risk.”

Yu Yang understood precisely what her father meant.

Apart from the most intimate relations between a man and a woman, when else could a woman see a man’s bare chest without arousing suspicion?

Yu Yang knew that, when the fate of the realm was at stake, her own chastity—a woman’s most valued treasure—could be sacrificed at any moment. Still, she resented her father’s cold ruthlessness.

But she had long since grown used to it. Her heart had grown cold.

Was it not simply a matter of approaching a stranger, winning his trust, and then, through intimacy, achieving her ultimate goal?

She, Yu Yang, would not hesitate, nor had she ever feared hardship.