ITVCFITB CHAPTER 64

 Chapter 64 — Missing Without a Trace

Close to Gu City sprawled a border state the locals called Guiyan. They had walled towns of their own, but the lands were remote and few outsiders visited. Guiyan encompassed several tribes, with the warlike Guizhen at its core, the very raiders who’d harried Great Xia’s frontier for years.

This autumn’s attack wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Two months earlier, Li Mingjin had already sat down with Wei Linyuan and several commanders to game out whether the northern tribes would ride for Gu City in search of winter grain. As it turned out, that discussion had been very worth having.

Mingjin had gone all-in that year: even soldiers turned soil in spring. Harvests across Gu City doubled. Not only officials but neighboring Guiyan scouts took notice, so many that they’d caught several waves of spies.

Where there’s grain, there’s plunder. If you couldn’t grow food on the steppe, you stole to survive.

Mingjin had considered talking first, trade their cattle and sheep for Xia’s grain. But the plan found few friends. Even doubled, the stores barely covered Gu City’s own needs with a margin in case of war. The granaries could not be touched.

And honestly, would Guiyan bargain in good faith? They’d ask the moon. Better to meet them with steel, which suited Mingjin fine. Soft words wasted time and fattened the foe.

Scouts reported heavy horse this time. Judging by the thunder on the ground, it wasn’t ten thousand, more like thirty to forty.

Gu City had cavalry too, the core left by the Great General, now under Wei Linyuan.

Mingjin had been in Gu City only months, but his fresh methods had won soldiers over. Even the famously neutral Wei Linyuan would drop a word in his favor. The Third Prince Consort too, their projects were ahead of the times and the people prospered. Every initiative landed.

Wei Linyuan corresponded with his father, the Great General. When he wrote out what the Third Prince and Consort had been doing, the old man was… surprised. None of this had reached the capital. That told Wei Linyuan a lot. Maybe the Third Prince wasn’t playing for fame at all, maybe he was simply doing the work, gains and losses be damned.

Furthermore, the Great General admitted that the Emperor often mentioned the Third Prince of Gu City, fretting they might be hungry or cold and secretly sending supplies without letting the other princes know. The old general wasn’t a talker, but he wasn’t good at bottling things up either, so he put it in a letter to his tight-lipped son.

The more Wei Linyuan read, the more his view shifted. Now and then he even reminded his younger brother to show the Third Prince proper respect. Perhaps His Majesty still had hopes for that son.

Following the Third Prince felt like the right bet. The old general had never singled out any prince, not even the Crown Prince. Now he watched this one.

Back in the city, Luo Shuyu wore a path in the study, fretting over Mingjin, who’d ridden to the front that morning.

Thanks to Lin Yuan’s months of care, Chen Rong no longer looked like a reed in the wind in the wind; he could even accompany Mingjin.

Shuyu hadn’t tried to stop him. A life of ease wasn’t the goal; some risks were worth taking. There were hidden guards, and Mingjin had promised not to charge blindly, he’d bring himself home in one piece.

Even so, Shuyu worried. Mingjin had never set foot on a battlefield in the last life, and this was his first in this one. The prince was clever, yes, but blades weren’t. War turned in a heartbeat.

As the sky darkened, a guard arrived with news.

Guiyan cavalry had closed in. Xia’s horse met them in the open. Mingjin rode with the vanguard but let the veterans lead. He watched, listened, learned as they talked through the board.

Shuyu exhaled when he heard that… then inhaled sharply as the guard finished. “What did you say?”

“His Highness said he will lead the charge tomorrow.”

“I see,” Shuyu said after a beat. “Get food, then come back for a letter.” He’d known it, watching others fight would never sate what had been caged in Mingjin for years.

They hadn’t written since the wedding; pillow talk made letters obsolete. But tonight, Shuyu wanted ink. Words carried by another’s mouth could not carry his heart.

He ground the ink himself and penned the first letter he’d written Mingjin since they’d come north.

That day’s clash ended even. Guiyan had brought light cavalry meant for surprise, but Xia had prepared. After a sharp engagement they pulled back twenty li. Xia camped on the field.

Only then did Mingjin have a moment to send word home. Meat and liquor in his belly, he received Shuyu’s reply.

Many of the commanders now knew the Third Prince was… a bit hen-pecked. It made him feel human. They were hen-pecked too. Handsome gers or not, anyone who could cow the Third Prince must be a terror at home.

“Your Highness,” one joked, “my wife doesn’t check on me when I’m at war.”

“Roll,” Mingjin said mildly, and the tent burst into laughter. Fine, now everyone knew.

He took the letter into his tent. One glance and the corner of his mouth lifted.

Shuyu’s style, never a stroke more than needed.

Be steadfast.

Two characters and Mingjin tucked them against his heart. Tomorrow, he would give it everything.

At first light, Guiyan returned to harry the camp. Mingjin rode out.

Both sides had food, strength, and will. The fighting was tight.

Days passed. Still even.

Then Guiyan realized Xia didn’t feel like old General Wei’s army anymore. The pressure built, on day four, Xia counterattacked. Light horse chewed to rags that Guiyan fled a hundred li by night and crossed out of Xia.

Too fast.

Even battle-tempered Wei Linyuan blinked. Had Guiyan eaten grass all year?

Thinking it through, he knew better. Many of the cleanest strikes came from a certain adviser surnamed Chen, every tip landed on the enemy’s seven-inch. That night raid? His idea. Of course, both sides had new commanders.

News of the victory flew to the capital. The Emperor, who’d been fretting over raids, beamed and showered rewards on the front, under Wei Linyuan’s name, loudly praising the Great General for raising worthy sons. The old man muttered to himself: I do raise them well. Your Crown Prince and Eldest… less to say.

Two days of gladness later, the Fourth Prince returned from the south with tidings that could be either very good or very bad.

After months of grind, he had proof of embezzled relief grain: names, bribes, the lot. Lin family at the rotted core. He brought the evidence himself, wary of theft en route.

He hadn’t expected the northern victory to beat him to the punch by a day. What an awkward timing. If he memorialized now, it would sour father’s good mood and sharply cut his own glow. Hand it to the imperial commissioner instead? After years of being overlooked, he needed to stand on his own two feet before an aging Emperor.

But the Eldest Prince would never forgive him. The risk of a break was real.

He glanced at Shen Mingyun, already back in the capital, carefree and eating well and felt a flash of envy. To be so untroubled.

In the end, he chose to face the Emperor the very next day. Wait longer and his brother’s nets would close.

When His Majesty saw the files, a lattice of corruption tied tight to Lin’s in Tong’an, his temper blew. Relief grain swallowed, prices rigged, fields seized, taxes worse than anywhere, no wonder refugees had flooded, and revolt sparked. People were simply being crushed.

A fine Lin clan indeed.

Thankfully, the recent joy kept him from collapsing. He steadied and began to plan the purge.

Lin Guifei heard the Fourth Prince had slipped into the palace and went cold. She called the Eldest in.

The Emperor had sealed himself in the study. Must be serious.

“Mother, what do we do?” the Eldest panted, sweat beading.

“What does he mean, sneaking back and hiding it from you?” she snapped. “Could he have found evidence?”

“Grandfather swore all loose ends were cut,” she said, jaw tight. “He won’t have proof.”

“Then why run to Father the instant he returned? Something wasn’t cleaned up. I have to see Grandfather!”

“Step back,” she barked. “What’s the rush? Even if it breaks, your uncle still holds troops.”

“Must we really go that far?”

“My son, would you watch your grandfather’s life’s work burn? He did it for you. If your father dies and the Crown Prince ascends, we are the first to go to the block.”

The Eldest hesitated, stricken.

Since his wife had delivered a daughter, the throne had felt farther. With a southern commissioner in play, farther still.

What now?

Years of scheming couldn’t end in ash.

---

A month after the light horse routed, Guiyan’s main force pressed down. Gu City bristled.

Buoyed by early success, Xia’s morale surged.

Chen Rong, however, poured cold water. “Your Highness, last time their little prince led, green, impulsive. This time it’s the crown prince, the one who crossed blades with the Great General for years. With the General absent, General Wei Linyuan’s name isn’t heavy enough to crush him. Last time was a probe; this one, a war. We can’t take any bait.”

Mingjin never confused boldness for arrogance. “And the remedy?”

“Send for help from Lang City,” Chen said.

Mingjin frowned. He wasn’t unwilling. He just doubted Lang would march if he asked.

That night he laid out his worries to Luo Shuyu.

Shuyu handed him a silk pouch. “Do you remember the token Noble Consort Wei gave us before we left?”

“I do,” Mingjin said, palming the token. “But I want to try first. If we truly can’t break the crown prince, we call them in. This is our last card.”

Shuyu nodded. “Then go with my faith. I believe in you.”

He swallowed what he didn’t say: just come back alive.

Storms were breaking over the capital too. The Fourth Prince’s memorial landed like thunder.

Half a month later, Mingjin led troops deep to strike only to slam into an ambush. Traps triggered. Lines shattered.

And then nothing.

No word. No trail.

When the message finally reached Gu City, Luo Shuyu swayed where he stood.

“Your Highness… you’ll be all right…”

---

Author’s Note:
Third Prince: “Wife, today I’m your captured enemy general—tall, broad-shouldered, devastatingly capable. You drag me straight into your command tent. I was terrified.”
Luo Shuyu: “…”

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Little note(s):
Like a reed in the wind: A metaphor for someone physically weak or frail; thin and easily swayed, much like a reed that bends in the breeze.
20 li: 10,000 meters = 10 km ≈ 6.2 miles