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Perhaps there were generals more capable of fighting wars than Qi Zhuyin. But at this moment, with the battlefields of both the north and south at stake, she would never trust Qidong's military power in the hands of anyone but herself.

Unruffled, Qi Zhuyin tightened her armguard; a hint of a smile tugged her lips as she bit down on the rope. “That lad sure runs fast.”

Qi Zhuyin was tall and slender. She must have put in special effort to dress up today.

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The sound of hooves circled toward them; by the time they looked around, a rider in red already stood before the carriage. Before Han Cheng could stop her, Qi Zhuyin extended the sheath of her blade and lifted the curtain, tilting her head to peer inside.

Sensing that Hua Xiangyi had awakened, she set it aside on the small table at the side and wiped her hands before touching Hua Xiangyi’s forehead. “You don’t even know you have fallen sick.”

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“A soldier knows only to die on the battlefield for their country; why should they concern themselves with the return of their body home after? If i die in battle, carve my name on a memorial tablet at home—it's all the same.”

“…This color is really pretty.” Hua Xiangyi’s voice was soft and pleasing. “It suits Commander-in-chief Qi just right. It’s not conspicuous at night.” She applied that last bit and turned her head to ask Xiao Chiye with a smile, “Pretty?”

She led Han Cheng back a few steps and was already at Hua Xiangyi’s table. Just as she was about to be forced back towards the Empress Dowager, she suddenly picked up Hua Xiangyi’s unfinished cup of wine and tilted her head back to down it all.

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The legendary Qi Zhuyin, the Windstorm through the Scorching Plains, had neither an especially strapping physique nor a majestic and imposing aura; she was merely taller than most women.

Hua Xiangyi had not yet covered her head with the veil; wearing her bridal phoenix coronet of gold and jade, she stared at Qi Zhuyin in shock, her chest pounding, unsure what Qi Zhuyin was going to do.

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Qi Zhuyin received this bow, looking as if she had just recognized who Hua Xiangyi was. “You are a fine woman.” Qi Zhuyin paused for a moment. “And I shall repay you with military accomplishments on the battlefield.”

“A soldier knows only to die on the battlefield for their country; why should they concern themselves with the return of their body home after? If i die in battle, carve my name on a memorial tablet at home—it's all the same.”