Chapter 1

Parsed with an automated reader. The content accuracy is not guranteed.

Chapter Text

The frontier. Winter Solstice.

There was no warm pot of dumplings to be seen;1 instead there was only the heavy snow that had been falling for half a month, and the battle which had been raging on for even longer. Soldiers died one after another, for men were mere gaps for filling,2 and men were cheaper than grass. The only difference was that withered grass had the chance to sprout once more in the coming year. When men die, they have not even horsehide to return home in.3 At best, the bodies of the dead would be shoved to the side, piled up in order to clear the battlefield. The bitter cold seeped straight to one’s bones and the corpses that had been left out for months looked no different from when they had died, no traces of rot to be seen.

Fresh blood would dye the battlefield red, only to disappear without a trace under new layers of snow. Blood would be spilt and covered up, again and again, in an inexhaustible cycle.

“Report!” the orderly shouted from afar, command flag in hand. The stamping of hooves cut through the blanket of snow outside the tents, scattering it in the air, like a flurry of falling pear blossoms.

The sole armour-clad man in the tent turned his head abruptly. The orderly’s long shout of “report” still echoed in the distance, but the tent’s occupant was already waiting by its entrance.

“Your Majesty!” the orderly vaulted off his mount and knelt in greeting.

“Rise and speak.” The orderly was helped up before his knees could touch the ground.

“We achieved great victory at the vanguard! Your Majesty! A great victory!” The orderly was already choking with sobs. “A blessing to Your Majesty’s ascension. This country4 is now secure.”

“Good! Good, good!” The young Emperor’s feet were unsteady. Staggering backwards, he was held up by a guard.

“This country…” Blood gushed from the young Emperor’s mouth and stained the two words crimson. His subsequent words were never uttered.

“Fetch the medic!” shouted the guard.

The new sovereign had been crowned in precarious times and inherited a nation fraught with troubles both internal and external. The stars showed abnormalities, and the people’s morale wavered. Rumours that prophesied the failure of the Emperor’s first battle spread through the land — the neighbouring states were aggressive; the northernmost citadel could not be held. Once the frontier towns were captured, the neighbouring states would scythe through Xi Li like a blade through dry grass, putting an end to the Gui clan’s hegemony.

Winter snow, winter blood,5 the bare-branched osmanthus of tomorrow-year vainly faces the moon.6 Such folk songs had already spread to every corner of the imperial capital before the campaign even began.

Gui Ningyuan had stood high upon the bare city walls, looking over the battered and desolate land. Raising his eyes, he gazed across that vastness, yet found that it held not a single talent he could use. Thereupon the new sovereign donned his armour and departed for the frontline. The stay at the frontier town lasted over two months. Some twenty battles, great and small, were waged. They left his body riddled with wounds, but also brought him a chance — a chance to reverse fate itself.

Gui Ningyuan waved his hands. Even in his half-awake state, he could hear the medic's rambling, to his great irritation.

“Where is General Chang?”

“Your subject is here.” A heavily armoured officer walked into the tent not a second after those words were said.

“No need to kneel while wearing such heavy armour. Did you just come from the frontline, General Chang?” Gui Ningyuan sat up, propping himself against his bed. “You have worked hard, General Chang. Please take a seat, quickly.”

“Only by luck was I able to win this battle.” Chang Feng did not sit, and still tried his utmost to perform his obeisance.

The new sovereign was worthy of such respect. He had shed blood with the tens of thousands of common soldiers, refusing to retreat even a single step when their enemy pressed forward. Only after he had fallen head-first from his horse and disappeared into the snowdrift was he finally carried back to camp.

“Ningyuan, Ningyuan.7 The late Emperor bestowed this name upon me in the hope that I would bring peace to the frontiers. Da Ming8 has harassed Xi Li for decades, repeatedly violating our borders. This battle has bolstered the morale of the army and the people.” Tears had welled up in Gui Ningyuan’s eyes — he had waited for this victory for too long. In this long, exhausting wait, he had gone from prince to Crown Prince, from Crown Prince to Emperor; waited while the bones of many a soldier were buried in foreign fields,9 waited while for many turns frontier towns were buried by snow.

“It is a shame that we could not exterminate the enemy. Though we dealt them a heavy blow, a few still managed to flee.” Within the ice-cold tent, Gui Ningyuan’s sigh turned into white mist.

Chang Feng was deeply moved. The new sovereign had shared his charcoal with his soldiers and decreed that under no circumstances should his tent have a single more piece of coal than any other tent.

“Your Majesty, the enemy’s rear guard fought to the death to cover their retreat. We suffered heavy casualties and could not afford to give chase.” Chang Feng gritted his teeth as he shook his head.

“Who was covering the retreat? Have you captured him?” Gui Ningyuan silently marvelled at this person’s resolve. It was this 'fight to the death' that had allowed some to escape from what clearly should have been a thorough defeat.

“It was Huai An. He has been captured and is being interrogated at this moment.”

General Huai? Gui Ningyuan was shocked. So that was the reason why the enemy had been able to snatch a chance of survival from the maw of a tiger.

“I will visit him. If I can pry his lips open, then things will not go well for Da Ming from now on.”

“The interrogation is a bloody matter, Your Majesty ….”

“If he refuses to speak, then it will be bloodier still.” Gui Ningyuan stood up from the bed and left the tent without looking back.

“Leave. I will talk with General Huai privately.” Gui Ningyuan dismissed all the soldiers with a wave of his hand.

“Beaten to this state and still you refuse to confess?” Gui Ningyuan pulled a chair over and sat down. The person before him was tied to a frame, his white clothing now dyed sanguine. He was streaming with blood and sweat. With his head lowered, it was impossible to discern his expression; only a liquid of indeterminable colour could be seen dripping from his hair.

Gui Ningyuan swept the room with his gaze. Almost all the torture instruments that could be used had already been used. This man was just as obstinate as he had thought.

“Riches, lands and beauties – I can provide them all. All General Huai has to do is speak.” This was the last ounce of patience Gui Ningyuan had left.

“It’s no use.”

Gui Ningyuan’s head abruptly shot up. Though that voice was weak, each word could not have been clearer.

“You need not waste your efforts. These are all useless.”

Gui Ningyuan studied the bloody mess before his eyes, surprised that he still had the strength to speak. He was not angry — in fact, he let out a laugh.

“General Huai’s mouth is harder than bone. But if I were to remove the General’s bones one by one, would his mouth still be as hard?” While he spoke, Gui Ningyuan walked up to stand before the wretched man. Once an unfavoured prince, Gui Ningyuan had secured the throne for himself by himself, and through those struggles he had mastered the art of ruthlessness.

“You can try.”

Gui Ningyuan thought that the man before him could barely even breathe, but his voice remained ice sharp.

“No need to try, I believe you are a tough one.” Gui Ningyuan chuckled and, he tilted that lowered head upwards with a dagger. “What if I had General Huai gelded and sent into the palace as a eunuch?” Gui Ningyuan had seized the throne with unorthodox methods, and no dirty tactics were beyond him. They were but means to an end.

A fall of wild hair was matted to the General’s face, obscuring his visage. Only a few scant patches of deathly pallor could be seen..

They were silent. Wind and snow howled outside the tent.

It was the ceaseless pacing of countless departed souls, and the anguished cries of the restless spirits of soldiers buried in foreign fields. All these tragedies had been caused by Huai An’s hand – how many sons of Xi Li had gone, never to return?

“General Huai, I never counted on you confessing. You are hard to break; I have long heard of this. However, death would be letting you off too easily. I should turn you into an eunuch and assign you to guard the thousand li of Xi Li’s graveyards, so that I may witness how the soldiers of the frontier garrisons drag you into the Yellow Springs."10

“Is my Da Ming not also strewn with corpses?” Though Huai An’s voice was weak, it sounded strangely firm against the backdrop of the howling northern winds, resolute and undying like borderland grass.

Gui Ningyuan did not want to waste any more words on him. He was the Emperor of Xi Li - he could only afford to care for the people of Xi Li. In this chaotic world forever alight with war, how could he have any heart to spare for the inhabitants of a foreign land?

With a twist of his wrist, the dagger sprang from its sheath. Holding it against his groin, Gui Ningyuan could sense that the battered man was also holding his breath.

Just as he was about to swing the blade, Gui Ningyuan happened to glance at the crotch of the other man’s pants. The dagger had yet to move, yet blood already began to drip from that spot onto the ground.

Gui Ningyuan’s hand stilled. He did not know where this blood came from.

Using the back of the blade, he nudged the member that lay between the other’s legs through the cloth. It was still there. Gui Ningyuan circled behind him, yet he did not see any blood coming from the back either.

Where exactly did this blood come from? Gui Ningyuan stooped over for a closer look.

“Don’t.”

Gui Ningyuan stopped, dumbfounded.

“Don’t look.” Huai An’s voice began to tremble. It had remained as stable as Mount Tai11 even after enduring every possible torture, yet now it began to tremble.

With one movement, Gui Ningyuan pulled down the captive’s pants. A large bloodstain soaked the fabric of its crotch, right between his member and the opening behind.

Gui Ningyuan squatted down.

“Don’t.” A note of entreaty had crept into the captive’s voice.

Gui Ningyuan squatted lower and raised his head. Abruptly, he rose again.

“You…”

The greatest general of Da Ming, whose name was known far and wide, was actually a shuang’er.12 Gui Ningyuan could scarcely believe his own eyes.

Even more… “You’re with child?” Gui Ningyuan retreated several steps, looking at the growing tracks of blood on the floor.

He received no answer. There was only Huai An's hollow gasping.

The flames of Gui Ningyuan’s anger soared. All the hatred that had gathered and festered in his heart was supposed to have been unburdened on this body, cut by cut. But now, he was faced with someone with child. It would be wrong if he let the blade fall, but it would also be wrong to stay his hand. Caught in this quandary, he could only fume in frustration as his head began to pound.

“Your Majesty.”

Through the throbbing headache, Gui Ningyuan suddenly heard someone call him, soft like the spring wind blowing in the second month.

Gui Ningyuan raised his head.

“Your Majesty. It’s gone, isn’t it?” Huai An’s voice wound around him like a stretch of white damask,13 miserable and full of despair.

Gui Ningyuan’s chest seized with panic. “I’ll fetch the medic. Perhaps it can be saved.” Gui Ningyuan forcefully clenched his teeth and swallowed down his pent-up anger. The old, weak, women and children were all captives who could not be killed — except he was no longer sure how to classify this person now.

As soon as he stepped out of the torture chamber, before that shout of “medic” could leave his throat, a soldier haphazardly ran towards him and fell to his knees, crying.

“Your Majesty, General Chang …”

“What happened to Chang Feng!” Gui Ningyuan seized the soldier by his collar.

“While tallying the captives at camp, General Chang was injured by a captive’s hidden weapon. That weapon was smeared with poison. General Chang died at the scene.”

Gui Ningyuan faced the snowy fields and vast sky. He laughed, laughed for an eternity, laughed until tears drenched his face. Chang Feng had followed him in excess of five years, from south to north, from battle to battle. He had risked his life innumerable times without expecting any reward, yet such an ending befell him.

Gui Ningyuan kicked open the interrogation chamber’s doors. His expression dark, he strode behind Huai An and shoved his dagger, along with its sheath, into the opening between Huai An’s legs. Amidst Huai An’s anguished cries, he shoved it deeper and deeper. A twist of the blade and blood poured out.

“General Chang too had a pregnant wife waiting at home. How shall she live now! How shall I14 face his widow?”

“What grass does not yellow? What day its march can spare? What grass does not blacken? What man a sufferer ne’er?”15Huai An held back his lamentations. Instead, he laughed, laughed as he asked. Light as gossamer, light as air, heavy as black clouds down upon cities bear.

That night, the north wind swept over the frontier.

The Xi Li Imperial Palace.

With this one victory, the new sovereign won the hearts of multitudes. Within the halls of court, the sea of officials knelt in salute.

“Da Ming refuses to cede territory or pay tribute and dares to ask for the release of captives. May Your Majesty decide our response.”

“Then we fight. We fight until not a blade of grass can grow, until that place disappears from the maps.” Though Gui Ningyuan stood in a great palace hall, his voice was still as cold and stark as the north wind of the frontier.

After court was dismissed, Gui Ningyuan shed his formal robes. At heart, he still missed the frost and armour of the borderlands.

“Madame Chang hanged herself. Two lives were taken with one body,” the attending servant whispered tentatively.

Gui Ningyuan gazed at the glorious splendour of the palace as if in a trance. How many bodies had it taken to build up this prosperous scene?

“I wish to walk alone.” Gui Ningyuan sent away the trailing attendants and walked to an unremarkable side courtyard, long abandoned. Like a cold palace,16 the door was covered in dust, the yard choked by yellow grass.

Instructing the guard to keep quiet, Gui Ningyuan walked in silently.

Pushing open the room’s dilapidated doors, he was hit by the suffocating smell of dust. After opening the inner chamber’s squeaking and swaying door, he could see the person imprisoned within.

This was a type of captivity worse than death, at least for one as honourable as General Huai. His upper body lay on the bed, hands shackled to the headboard by a pair of iron chains. His legs were spread open, suspended from the bed’s canopy by his ankles.17 His body was wholly bare, without a stitch of clothing.

The man was shuddering in the wind that crept through the window’s cracks.

Gui Ningyuan thought of the frontier all of a sudden — to the last wilted leaf that spiralled down in the wind as sharp as knives. After that, there was only deathly stillness, only the blank white snow.

“My guess was right. You have a lover in Da Ming, someone who wants me to release the captives. To speak plainly, they mean to release this creature before me that is neither man nor woman, namely you. ”

Huai An’s wounds were still unsightly. Some had already healed by themselves; others instead festered with infection. Half of his hair was gathered on top of his head, and the rest was spread behind him on the bed or stuck to his face. That face of his was faintly visible, but so pale that it lacked any signs of life. This general of Da Ming, who had commanded such fame and caused many an enemy to flee at his mere sight, was in reality much younger than Gui Ningyuan had thought.

So young, yet with hands already drenched with blood. Gui Ningyuan laughed coldly.

“Are you holding on to this wretched excuse for a life just to wait for your lover to fetch you back?”

Huai An did not speak. His gaze wandered to the scene outside the window, but there was nothing there at all except the ragged courtyard — ragged like his body.

“You still wish to reunite with your lover? So many soldiers of Xi Li are ruined, families torn apart. Do you think I will grant you your wish?” Gui Ningyuan laughed until tears came to his eyes.

“What woe for us campaigners, we alone are ‘neath human thought.”18 Huai An’s vast, hollow voice never failed to bring Gui Ningyuan back to that frontier town.

“Cease with your scholar’s spiel. All of it is weightless before the mountain of corpses stacked by your hand!” Gui Ningyuan could once again see that battlefield where blood flowed like rivers and where bodies frozen to blocks of ice lay in the snow.

“Huai An, not only will I never release you to reunite with your family, but I will also see to it that he loses you forever. Alive, he will never have you, and neither will he when you are dead. I will see that your ghost has nowhere to call home, so that he cannot find you, whether in Heaven or Hell.”

“He can.” Gui Ningyuan’s words were interrupted by this sound. It was the sound of Huai An’s voice – strong like hardy weeds, unable to be pulled up, unable to be cut down.

Gui Ningyuan’s laughter rang out. “He can? I will tell you right now that he cannot; he will never be able to welcome back that same person who once occupied his heart.”

Huai An frowned as he turned to look at Gui Ningyuan.

Gui Ningyuan lifted the hem of his robe and took out his member, stroking it casually with his hand. As if a testament to his youth and vitality, it stood erect after a mere few strokes.

Huai An tried to jerk backwards, but alas, bound as he was by iron shackles, the only result was the futile clanging of metal.

Gui Ningyuan did not shove himself in, but rather continued to stroke himself with teeth clenched, impatiently hurrying along his ejaculation. Finally, once the member had swollen to a sinister size, Gui Ningyuan entered Huai An’s passage with a single decisive thrust. It was extremely convenient, as if Huai An had been purposefully positioned just so he could be fucked.

Then, he promptly emptied himself into Huai An’s passage. Not a drop was wasted.

This was the best way to ruin a woman. Perhaps Huai An could not be considered a woman, but so long as he had that little passage, he too had to guard his chastity — to lose it would be ruinous. Such was decreed since time immemorial. This was clear even to someone like Gui Ningyuan, who had crawled from piles of corpses with soldiers and brigands alike to become a ruler with a merciless heart and even harsher hands.

In that instant, Huai An’s eyes were filled with terror.

Such a dignified official, such a consummate warrior, such an undefeatable general who could single-handedly hold a pass against ten thousand enemies — one would never have thought to see this expression on his face.

Huai An opened his mouth, as though wishing to speak.

“What?” Gui Ningyuan asked. What lofty words lamenting universal suffering could this man pull out now?

“I beg you,19 let me clean it out.”

Gui Ningyuan stared blankly. “What? Clean what out?”

“Your Majesty, I beg you to let me scrape out what you released inside me.” Huai An’s voice had taken on a humility that Gui Ningyuan had never heard from him.

“Refusing a gift from the Emperor is punishable by beheading.” Gui Ningyuan clasped Huai An’s sharp chin.

Scrape it out? How laughable. All of this was just to ensure that this mass murderer could never return to that place he longed for. Let him carry the mark of his enemy forever, never to be accepted by his beloved again.