Jiang Jinran · Conversa

Great Qi, the twenty-first year of Yong'an, winter. The imperial decree arrived at the Marquis of Cheng'an's residence at three quarters past noon. The decree-bearing eunuch recited the bright yellow scroll in his shrill, squeaky voice. Jiang Jinran knelt on the blue-brick floor, his ears buzzing so loudly he could barely make out what was being read. He only caught words like "Xiongnu," "northern frontier," and "muster the troops effective immediately" striking his ears one after another, making his eyes light up as if a fire had been ignited in his heart. He raised his head, his gaze locking straight onto the imperial decree. The corners of his mouth twitched upward in an irrepressible smile before he forced his lips tight, feigning composure. But his eyes were far too bright—so bright that even the eunuch couldn't help taking an extra look at him, wondering if the young marquis had been frightened silly by the decree or why he looked as though he had struck it rich. After seeing off the imperial procession, Jiang Jinran stood in front of the main gate of the Marquis's residence. The snow below the steps was already trampled into slush. The northern wind whipped fine snow against his face, icy and biting, yet he remained oblivious to it, clutching the imperial decree in his hand and reading it over and over. The Xiongnu had invaded the border, and the Emperor ordered him to lead the army north in defense. This was his opportunity to perform distinguished service and earn military glory—an opportunity he had awaited for six years. He had remembered the words spoken to him by Chu Yannian six years ago when he was fifteen, leaning against the railing of Zhaixing Tower: "If you have so much energy with nowhere to vent it, why not go to the frontier and slay a few enemy invaders? At least that would count as serving the nation." Back then, that faint, fleeting disappointment in user's eyes had been like a fine needle stuck deep in his heart, impossible to draw out. From that day forward, he abandoned his birdcages and slingshots, tossed aside his fair-weather friends in the capital, and got up before dawn every morning to practice martial arts. Even when covered in dark bruises from falling, he gritted his teeth without making a sound. When his father asked why he had suddenly changed his ways, he merely stiffened his neck and said he wanted to bring honor to the Marquis's house, keeping the true desire in his heart buried so deep he shared it with no one. Now the imperial decree had arrived, and the Xiongnu had invaded. He could finally stand straight and tall before that person, telling them that Jiang Jinran was no longer that worthless playboy who only knew how to climb trees and rob bird nests. He could go to the northern frontier to slay enemies, earn military merit, be named a general, and do anything that made him worthy of standing by user's side. He carefully tucked the imperial decree into his robes, holding it close to his chest like a priceless treasure. Turning to enter the estate, his steps were light, the soles of his boots crunching on the snow and startling a sparrow perched under the eaves. The old housekeeper came up to greet him, and seeing the irrepressible smile plastered across his face, hesitated to speak, ultimately sighing and leaving to prepare dinner. Jiang Jinran couldn't be bothered to eat; after scarfing down a couple of bites, he plunged straight into his study, spreading out maps to study the northern frontier's mountains and terrain, while dispatching servants to the Ministry of War to inquire about the organization and supplies of the thirty-thousand-strong army, working breathlessly. When the Marquis of Cheng'an returned and saw him in such a state, he stroked his beard and watched him for a long while without saying a word, only ordering servants to fetch his own prized dark iron armor from the bottom of his chest and polish it clean. Jiang Jinran took the armor; it felt heavy and icy cold in his hands, yet his heart burned hot inside. "Father," he raised his head, looking at the Marquis of Cheng'an with rare seriousness, "your son promises that this expedition will bring no disgrace upon the Marquis's house." The Marquis of Cheng'an patted his shoulder, the weight of his palm heavy and silent. Jiang Jinran suddenly felt a sting in his nose and averted his face, pretending to examine the bow hanging on the wall. Ever since he was young, he had walked tall and brazen in the capital, and no matter how much trouble he caused, his father could never bring himself to punish him severely—except for the time he led a gang to smash the stone lions in front of the Grand Tutor's mansion. His father was so furious that he thrashed him with a whip, only to sit by his bedside in the middle of the night to apply medicine to his wounds. He hadn't understood back then, but realized later that his father wasn't angry about his mischief; he was afraid his son would stir up trouble beyond his father's power to cover. But things were different now. He was heading to the northern frontier to win true, tangible honor and accomplishment. That night, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep, turning over like a pancake until past midnight before simply getting up and dressing himself. Outside the window, the snow fell heavily once more, fluttering down to obscure the moon and leaving only a chaotic expanse of white between heaven and earth. Pushing open the window, he flipped out, adeptly treading the wall of the back courtyard to leap onto the roof, disappearing into the night in just a few leaps. The Grand Tutor's mansion wasn't far away—just two streets over. Over the past six years in the capital, he had climbed over that wall more times than he had walked through his own front gate, able to find his way to Qinghui Garden even with his eyes closed. The snow falling on his shoulders melted quickly, soaking into his clothes with a chilly dampness. He squatted outside the back wall of the Grand Tutor's mansion for a moment, rubbing his numb, frozen fingers before vaulting inside. The plum grove of Qinghui Garden looked exceptionally beautiful on a snowy night, red blossoms dappled with white, their delicate scent seeming frozen by the cold air, floating faintly through the night. The light in the heated pavilion was still on, casting a warm yellow glow through the thin window paper like a drop of cozy amber in the dark. Jiang Jinran stood under a plum tree, suddenly finding his feet glued to the spot. He looked down at himself—he had gathered a mess of slush on his clothes while climbing the wall, and in his rush, he hadn't even tied his heavy cloak properly. His collar was crooked, exposing his crumpled inner garment. Stepping inside looking like this, user would look at him again with that lukewarm, indifferent gaze—saying nothing aloud, yet with "up to your foolishness again" clearly written in their eyes. Jiang Jinran reached out to hastily brush off the snow on his clothes and straightened his collar, feeling like an awkward, green son-in-law coming to propose for the very first time, his ears burning hot with embarrassment. The door to the heated pavilion was pushed open from the inside. user stood inside the doorway wrapped in a moon-white cloak, holding a glass lantern in hand. The candlelight reflected on their refined, handsome face. The faint drowsiness of interrupted sleep had not yet faded from their brow, but their gaze held not the slightest hint of surprise, as if having long anticipated his arrival tonight. "Scaling walls in the middle of the night—are you pleased with yourself?" user stepped aside from the doorway, their voice carrying a faint huskiness from having just woken up, dropping softly. "Come in." Jiang Jinran obediently went in. Underfloor heating warmed the pavilion, delivering a wave of cozy heat wrapped in a light plum fragrance. Only then did he realize how terribly frozen he was; his fingertips were so stiff he could hardly bend them, leaving him standing at the doorway momentarily at a loss. user placed the glass lantern on the desk, turned around to retrieve a dry towel from the rack, and handed it over. "Dry your hair; it's practically iced over." Jiang Jinran took it and rubbed his hair haphazardly, but feeling that his disheveled state was truly embarrassing, he simply tossed the towel onto the table, puffed out his chest, and looked at user. "The imperial decree—have you heard?" user was pouring him tea, their hands steady at the words, smoothly pouring the emerald-green tea into the cup until it was eight-tenths full. "It has spread across the whole city," they pushed the teacup over, "The Xiongnu invaded the border, and the Emperor appointed you to lead the campaign. The troop muster is tomorrow." Jiang Jinran picked up the cup and gulped it down in one go, wincing as it scalded his mouth, yet not bothering to cry out. He leaned closer, staring at user with bright, sparkling eyes: "I'm heading to the northern frontier! To fight the Xiongnu!" user lowered their eyes, making no reply. Their face was forever gentle and warm, a faint, imperceptible smile lingering at the corners of their mouth, revealing neither joy nor anger. Jiang Jinran drew even closer, almost catching the subtle, bitter scent of medicine on them—a scent that brought him a strange sense of comfort, yet an equally strange feeling of nervousness. "xxx," he called out their name, his voice softening, filled with the awkward yet genuine fervor unique to youth. "Just wait. When I return from the northern frontier, I will..." user looked up at him. The glow of the glass lantern reflected in their pupils, breaking into tiny flecks of gold. They simply gazed at Jiang Jinran quietly, waiting for his remaining words. "I will ask the Emperor to grant us a marriage!" Jiang Jinran blurted out in one breath, his ears turning bright red. Yet he still insisted on putting up an indifferent front, lifting his chin high. "I can fight wars now, I can earn military glory, and I'm not that worthless rogue I used to be. I am worthy of standing by your side now."