Volume One: Flames on the Frontier Chapter Twenty-Two: Miss Chen

He Yu recognized Li Jun's voice, hastily turned around, and put on a smile, bowing respectfully, "Ah, Commandant Li, He Yu greets you."

Li Jun returned the gesture with a slight bow, stepped closer, and apologized with some embarrassment, "Brother He, about last time—that was my fault. I owe you an apology. You know, I'm a rough man, not as well-versed in courtesy as you southerners..."

He Yu immediately understood that Li Jun was referring to the incident with the South Gate, when blame was unfairly shifted onto him. He thought to himself, "Li Jun may not be eloquent, but he is clear about right and wrong—a real man. And he calls me 'brother' so naturally, without affectation. Perhaps he's someone worth befriending."

With this thought, He Yu relaxed and replied with a generous smile, "Think nothing of it. I too was not entirely blameless—let's just call it a misunderstanding."

They walked side by side. Li Jun, not one to dwell on past grievances, changed the subject. "After the battle at Xiemaling, the Tianxiong Fort suffered a loss. Word is they've vowed to retaliate against Chenjia Stronghold. We are short on men and our defenses are weak. If Tianxiong launches a full assault, do you have any suggestions, brother?"

He Yu knew Li Jun was a man of few words, cold in demeanor but skilled in military matters, experienced in both attack and defense. In the last ten days under his leadership, the South Gate's defenders had been drilled and their equipment improved.

As the commander of the South Gate, defending it was He Yu's duty, and he had been contemplating countermeasures these days.

After a moment's thought, He Yu said, "Brother Li, in my view, Tianxiong Fort relies most heavily on their heavy cavalry. In open battle, we would not stand a chance. At present, the best strategy is to fortify the city and hold our ground. Nothing serves defense better than bows and crossbows—we must forge more and stockpile arrows and provisions."

Li Jun nodded, "You're right, brother. I was thinking the same."

He Yu offered another idea: "We should build additional watchtowers within the stronghold and station lookouts around the clock. At the first sign of trouble, we can sound the alarm and prevent Tianxiong from sneaking in."

Li Jun smacked his palm with his riding whip. "Excellent idea! I'm glad you thought of it. I'll see to the construction at once."

With a parting bow, he hurried toward the construction office within the stronghold.

Li Jun was a man of action—what he set his mind to, he did without delay. Bold and forthright, unconcerned with trifles—a true hero.

At home, Deng'er was busy cooking. He Yu entered the study and reclined on the couch, lost in thought.

In the Eastern Jin, there was no printing press. Books were scarce, and the sum of knowledge far less than in later times. Thus, though the room was called a study, the shelves held few books. He Yu understood little of those, and had little interest in scholarly pursuits.

In later eras, one could search the internet for answers or consult books, but that was impossible in the Eastern Jin.

He Yu felt an intense unease. Tianxiong Fort's sudden aggression must have hidden support—otherwise, with Diao Bao's cunning, he would never have risked open conflict so rashly. The two families had struggled for decades, always stopping short of outright war. The current escalation could only mean they intended to swallow Chenjia Stronghold in one stroke.

The force emboldening Tianxiong Fort was hardly a mystery: it must be Murong Kai, Prince of Taiyuan of Later Yan, who was stationed with troops at Yanmen.

A single wolf was already dangerous; if a tiger joined behind, the threat would be even greater.

Thinking it through, He Yu's thoughts gradually clarified: Later Yan was preparing for war against Northern Wei. Before the conflict was settled, they would not commit troops to support Tianxiong in any sustained or large-scale way. If they could just withstand Tianxiong's initial assault, there was still hope.

Tianxiong was seeking the prince's backing to counterbalance their own fears of being swallowed by the court. The alliance between the two was not unbreakable. With this analysis, He Yu felt much more at ease.

Just then, Deng'er called him to dinner. At some point, a gentle spring rain had begun to fall.

The sound of rain in the courtyard was soft and tranquil.

Lamplight illuminated the room, where the two sat at the table, eating face to face with perfect harmony. Tonight Deng'er had prepared four dishes and a pot of wine: braised pork, stir-fried bean sprouts, chicken soup, and tofu stew.

As they ate, a knock sounded at the small eastern gate of the courtyard. A young girl's voice called out, "Miss Lin, are you home? The mistress wishes to speak with you."

Within the stronghold were several courtyards housing the most prominent families. To the east of He Yu's Plum Pavilion stood a grand residence known as Orchid Lodge.

Orchid Lodge was elegantly furnished, bustling with servants. Its mistress was Chen Qingyun, who assisted her brother in managing household affairs; decisive and capable, she was a talented hand at both internal and external matters. In He Yu's eyes, Chen Qingyun was much like Wang Xifeng from Dream of the Red Chamber.

He Yu, responsible for the South Gate, managed external affairs; Chen Qingyun oversaw the internal ones. Their paths seldom crossed, and, having moved in not long ago, He Yu had not yet paid her a formal visit. Unexpectedly, it was Chen Qingyun who now called upon him.

Deng'er stuck out her tongue, set down her chopsticks, and went to open the door. He Yu followed to greet the guest.

In the rain and lamplight, a young servant holding a lantern led the way, while Chen Qingyun, dressed in a flowing gown and adorned with a falling-horse bun, approached under an oil-paper umbrella, exuding the grace of a true lady.

He Yu was momentarily taken aback. "Chen Qingyun is usually dressed in riding clothes, businesslike and energetic. But tonight, she appears as a gentle maiden—her bearing is altogether different."

As they reached the corridor, He Yu found himself staring absentmindedly, momentarily forgetting his manners.

Chen Qingyun, holding her maid's arm, smiled demurely and said softly, "What are you thinking, Master He? Is my late-night visit unwelcome?"

He Yu came to himself and hastily apologized, "Not at all, not at all! Miss Chen is an honored guest. I'm so pleased I forgot my manners—punish me as you will."

A soft laughter followed.

Chen Qingyun's beautiful eyes narrowed playfully. "They say Master He is a young hero—even your words are charming."

All four entered the room. Deng'er paid her respects formally; though she was no longer a servant, she dared not neglect the courtesy due her former mistress.

Chen Qingyun, half in jest, exclaimed, "Come now, Deng'er—you're the wife of a commander now. Such formalities are unnecessary." Yet though she said so, she did not return the bow, accepting it without hesitation.

Deng'er, bowing, replied earnestly, "If not for Miss Chen's guidance, I would never be where I am today. I dare not forget my manners."

Chen Qingyun cast a sidelong glance at Deng'er, her gaze sharp, and said, "I wouldn’t dare take the credit. It's thanks to Master He that you've found such happiness. Ah, beauty fades, but a good husband is hard to find. In some ways, Deng'er, you are luckier than I."

With these words, she sat opposite He Yu. Deng'er, though free, did not dare sit in her former mistress's presence.

He Yu's heart skipped a beat. "What does Chen Qingyun mean by this? There’s a subtext, as if she’s hinting at rivalry between two women for a husband. How absurd—the mistress and the maid vying for the same man! If word of this got out, what a laughingstock I'd be!"

By modern standards, he was a typical straight-laced man, appreciative of gentle beauty but not especially fond of strong-willed women.

Tonight, however, Chen Qingyun, with her enchanting beauty so different from her usual martial appearance, was certainly striking. But the moment she spoke, her commanding presence and decisive manner shone through, leaving He Yu somewhat uneasy.

Deng'er, standing aside, forced a smile. "Miss, what are you saying? Even Commandant Li, so capable, thinks of you constantly. How could I, a mere maid, compare?"

A soft ripple of laughter followed.

Chen Qingyun gazed at He Yu, laughing so hard she nearly lost her breath. "No matter how capable Li Bojun may be, he cannot compare to Master He, who single-handedly defeated over thirty of Tianxiong’s best. In talent and looks, he falls even shorter. Deng'er, are you being modest, or are you afraid I'll steal your Master He away?"

Deng'er blushed and could not find words.

He Yu hurried to smooth over the awkwardness. "Miss Chen flatters me. Commandant Li is among the finest men in our stronghold. Many young ladies wish to marry him."

Chen Qingyun's face darkened, and she said with sudden irritation, "Even you mock me, He Yu! Chen Bojun is so much older, yet still wants me as his second wife. I'd sooner die than agree. In my eyes, only a man like you is worthy as a husband."

Her gaze fixed on He Yu, her words growing more direct, as if Deng'er were invisible.

In Chen Qingyun’s mind, Deng'er was her servant, expected to yield in all things, and since Deng'er and He Yu were not yet married, there was still hope for her.

Li Bojun was barely thirty, ten years older than Chen Qingyun—a gap not uncommon in those days.

He Yu had not expected Chen Qingyun to be so forthright and was momentarily lost for words. He asked, "Miss Chen, have you eaten? If not, why not join us?"

Chen Qingyun brightened. "You are thoughtful, Master He. I came straight here after business and haven’t eaten yet."

He Yu signaled to Deng'er, who went to the kitchen to prepare more food, clearly unsettled. The maid accompanying Chen Qingyun was a child with golden hair and blue eyes, as lovely as a porcelain doll. She was from the Western Regions and called Xue Nu'er.

Though only eleven or twelve, Xue Nu'er was quick-witted. Seeing Deng'er leave, she said, "Miss, I'll go help Sister Deng'er." Chen Qingyun nodded with a smile.

Once Xue Nu'er left, only He Yu and Chen Qingyun remained. The flickering lamplight cast shadows as their eyes met and quickly darted away again, the air thick with awkwardness.

He Yu’s heart pounded, his palms damp with sweat—he was more nervous now than he had been in battle at Xiemaling.

They sat in silence, the atmosphere strange and tense.

"Miss Chen..."

"Master He..."

Both spoke at the same time, their words colliding, and they fell silent once more.

Chen Qingyun took a sip of wine to hide her flushed cheeks, then asked, "Master He, you seem nervous in my presence. Is it because I'm not as beautiful as Deng'er, or is there another reason?"

He Yu forced a calm smile. "You're joking, Miss. You are as beautiful as Deng'er."