A Concubine's Competitive Life in the Prince's Household-Chapter 119

The garrison commander Shen Mieyue knelt to receive the imperial decree. After reading its contents, he immediately dispatched men to Cang City a hundred li away to summon the Marquis of Southern Garrison, Shangguan Xuan, for discussions.

Under the cold moonlight that night, Shangguan Xuan arrived on horseback with a small cavalry unit, accompanied by his strategist, Zhao Qing. Their horses approached the city quietly. Shangguan Xuan, in his twenties, sat tall on his steed, his dark robes fluttering in the wind. His handsome features bore the sun-darkened complexion of a man long stationed at the border, yet he still carried the refined air of a noble from the capital.

Shen Mieyue greeted them at the city gates, his gaze briefly flickering to the slender young man sharing a horse with Shangguan Xuan.

"Master Zhao is here too?" Shen Mieyue raised an eyebrow, unsurprised.

Zhao Qing, originally an ordinary youth from Liangzhou, had once been gathering herbs when he was ambushed by bandits. Shangguan Xuan, passing by, rescued him. Grateful, Zhao Qing proposed the creation of "firearms," earning his place as the marquis’s trusted strategist.

Zhao Qing was unskilled in riding and frail in health. Tonight, he rode with Shangguan Xuan.

Shangguan Xuan dismounted first, then turned with practiced ease. "A-Qing, give me your hand. I’ll help you down."

Under the bright border moon, a faint blush colored Zhao Qing’s delicate features. He clasped Shangguan Xuan’s broad hand and clumsily descended.

A misstep sent his slender frame tilting.

Shangguan Xuan reacted swiftly, securing Zhao Qing’s narrow waist and steadying him firmly on the ground.

"My thanks, Marquis." Zhao Qing’s lips curved into a gentle smile. Their eyes met, an unspoken affection shimmering between them.

Shen Mieyue, a rough-and-tumble man, noticed nothing amiss and led them inside to strategize the attack on three cities of the Yue Kingdom.

In the inner hall, all but a few trusted officers were dismissed. The group gathered around a sand table, mapping out their battle plans. Zhao Qing, unfamiliar with military tactics, sat quietly sipping tea, his gaze occasionally lingering on Shangguan Xuan with quiet tenderness.

"Why was Prince Yan targeted for assassination again?" one officer scratched his head, recalling a similar attempt months prior.

Shen Mieyue shot him a look. "What do you know? It’s all part of His Highness’s strategy."

War required a just cause.

Two Qing State princes nearly slain by Yue assassins—who could tolerate such an affront? How could the soldiers not rage?

The officers debated late into the night, finalizing every detail of their campaign before dispersing. Confidence ran high—Qing State was powerful, and with their unstoppable firearms unit, victory seemed assured.

"Don’t rush off yet," Shen Mieyue called to Shangguan Xuan and Zhao Qing. "Have some tea—Yan Yunting brought this lotus blossom tea from the capital. Tastes like nothing to me, but you’re from the capital, Young Marquis. You’ll appreciate it."

A servant presented the tea.

Shangguan Xuan took a sip, nostalgia flickering in his eyes. "The famed lotus blossom tea of the capital. Every summer, buds from Lake Luoyue are plucked, their petals parted to cradle tea leaves overnight, infusing them with the lotus’s delicate fragrance."

Zhao Qing tasted it too, marveling at the tea’s exquisite aroma—his first encounter with such refinement.

Shen Mieyue chuckled. "You capital folk and your fussy ways—stuffing tea into flowers! My little sister used to dry lotus petals for tea too. Tasted awful."

Zhao Qing asked casually, "Where is your sister now, General Shen?"

Shen Mieyue’s expression darkened, his smile vanishing.

The towering man’s voice trembled faintly as he spoke of his family. He closed his eyes. "Gone. All of them."

Realizing his blunder, Zhao Qing fell silent.

Shen Mieyue clenched his fists. "I’ll slaughter those Yue bastards for what they did. Strategist Zhao, I hear you’re developing a weapon called 'landmines.' Work hard—I’m counting on you!"

Zhao ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‍Qing nodded earnestly.

After tea, Shangguan Xuan prepared to leave with Zhao Qing.

Shen Mieyue suddenly remembered something and hurriedly retrieved a thick parcel from a cabinet. "Young Marquis, I nearly forgot! Your wife sent these—new leather boots. Take them back!"

Shangguan Xuan halted.

Zhao Qing’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes brimming with quiet hurt.

Shangguan Xuan turned back. "My current boots serve me well. Keep these for yourself, General."

With that, he lifted Zhao Qing onto his horse and rode off with his cavalry.

Shen Mieyue stared at the pristine boots, then at the worn pair Shangguan Xuan wore—the ones Zhao Qing had bought him at a Liangzhou market, which he’d refused to replace.

"Turning down new boots for old ones… Capital folk are strange," Shen Mieyue muttered, returning inside.

He examined the craftsmanship—tight stitching, the toughest hide from a bull’s back, treated with tung oil. Clearly, the marquis’s wife had poured her heart into these.

Shen Mieyue tried them on.

A perfect fit.

Grinning, he vowed, "When we triumph, I’ll thank that lady properly!"

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

At dawn, Shen Mieyue stood in his new boots, rallying the troops.

Pale light bathed Liangzhou as a lone eagle’s cry pierced the sky. A great gray raptor descended, landing on Shen Mieyue’s armored shoulder.

Spear in hand, eagle at his side, his voice boomed across the training grounds:

"Men!"

"The Yue dogs steal our land, our women, our children! Five days ago, they sent assassins after Princes Yan and Heng! This insult will be repaid!"

"To arms! For Da Qing! Fight!"

The eagle shrieked. War had come.