"N-no need. I can carry it myself. Thank you," Lu Shuo hurriedly replied.
Since the bundle wasn't heavy, Tianqing didn't press.
The main courtyard was not overly ornate—just an open, clean space with two white stone flower beds before the covered corridors, planted with a few verdant dwarf pines and some fresh flowers he couldn't name.
Lu Shuo bit his lips, forcing himself not to gawk, and followed the group deeper into the residence.
The young masters continued chattering in low voices. The Duke and Duchess walked at the front, also speaking quietly with serious expressions.
The murmur of voices mingled with the drizzle. Lu Shuo lowered his eyes again, his throat tightening.
"That boy is twelve?" the Duchess said softly. "He doesn't look it."
The Duke replied, "He is thin, but he is indeed twelve. His family circumstances were poor, so naturally he can't compare to the pampered youths in the Capital."
Duchess: "Doesn't he have any other relatives?"
"He does, but..." The Duke sighed. "With both parents gone, only an uncle and aunt remained. Rather than letting the boy continue to suffer with relatives, I thought it best to bring him to the Capital. It's the least I can do to honor the trust Lu Zhong placed in me."
The Duke's name was Helan Zong. His father was a founding general and the first Duke Xuan, personally enfeoffed by Emperor Taizu of Dayue. Helan Zong originally had an elder brother who inherited the title after their father's death. The two brothers had gotten along until Emperor Taizu passed away. The succeeding Emperor Muzong reigned for only four years before dying of a sudden illness, leaving the Crown Prince and the Noble Consort's son locked in a bloody struggle for succession.
In principle, the Crown Prince's succession should have been uncontroversial. But the problem was that the Crown Prince was not born of the Empress; he was adopted from another consort because the Empress was childless. Moreover, Emperor Muzong had doted on the Noble Consort and her son, and before his death, he had been gathering trusted officials to discuss changing the heir. But before he could issue the edict, he died of a sudden illness.
After Emperor Muzong's death, the Empress rushed to install the Crown Prince. However, the Noble Consort produced an imperial decree, claiming it was the late emperor's final edict to replace the Crown Prince.
The Empress's faction denounced it as a forgery, while the Noble Consort's faction insisted it was real. Neither side backed down, and conflict seemed imminent.
Helan Zong's elder brother was one of Emperor Muzong's trusted officials and knew of the plan to replace the Crown Prince. However, the edict had not been made public during the emperor's lifetime and only surfaced after his death, naturally raising suspicion.
Helan Zong asked his brother whether the so-called edict was genuine or false. The brother told him not to meddle. But Helan Zong believed that the Crown Prince was the rightful heir—he had been diligent in state affairs and had committed no fault. How could he be so easily deposed? Even if Emperor Muzong were alive and truly intended to change the heir, Helan Zong would have remonstrated against it. All the more so when the authenticity of this edict was in question.
Thus, the brothers became estranged. As the situation in the Capital grew more volatile, Helan Zong moved his small family out of the Duke Mansion, clearly drawing a line.
Later, a rebellion broke out in the Capital over the succession. Blood and fire flowed before the palace gates. The citizens shut their doors, fearing to get involved.
The conflict ended with the Empress's faction victorious. The Crown Prince successfully ascended the throne. The Noble Consort's faction was purged, and Helan Zong's elder brother was stripped of his title. Out of respect for his father's merits as a founding hero, he was spared execution, but the entire family was expelled from the Capital and confined to their ancestral home.
The title of Duke Xuan fell to Helan Zong. He moved his family back into the Duke Mansion, but things had changed, leaving him with a heavy heart.
A few years later, news came from their hometown that his brother had died of depression. By then, the new emperor had firmly secured his throne. Eager to emulate his grandfather's legacy and make up for his father's early death, he was determined to achieve great deeds.
The emperor turned his gaze to the northern borders, where the barbarian tribes beyond the passes had not been fully subdued even by Emperor Taizu, due to the strain on resources. But after years of recovery, the treasury was full, and the military well-equipped. If the army did not stir again soon, their martial spirit might fade entirely.
The emperor appointed Helan Zong to lead the campaign.
Helan Zong was a fierce general and lived up to the emperor's expectations. Upon crossing the border, he captured three cities in quick succession, greatly boosting morale. However, the barbarians were not to be underestimated. Though they lost the initial battles, they did not panic; they adjusted their strategy in time, and with the weather's help, they managed to fight Helan Zong to a standstill.
The toughest and most crucial battle occurred four months ago, when they attacked the most strategic pass held by the barbarians. Capturing it would ease the pressure on subsequent advances. Neither Dayue nor the barbarians dared take it lightly.
Helan Zong devised a meticulous plan, and everything was progressing well. But then, unexpectedly, Heaven turned against them—a blizzard struck, the worst in nearly fifty years.
The Dayue troops, hailing from the Central Plains, were not accustomed to such bitter cold as the barbarians. The tide of battle turned; the vanguard was scattered by the barbarians' iron cavalry. Seeing the danger, Helan Zong did not cling to the fight. He immediately ordered a retreat.
To preserve the main force and buy time, he commanded his deputy to lead the army back while he stayed behind to block the pursuers.
He succeeded in misleading the enemy, leading them down a false path, but at the cost of severe wounds himself.
After barely shaking off the pursuers, Helan Zong and the few remaining soldiers hid in a cave to shelter from the snowstorm.
He had lost a lot of blood, his vision darkening intermittently, but he gritted his teeth and clung to consciousness, unwilling to die in a foreign land.
Just then, a young soldier volunteered to exchange armor and horse with the general. Posing as the general, he would lead the pursuers away, allowing the others to escort the real general back to camp.
The young soldier said, "I am of humble birth and have little knowledge, but I know that if we defeat these barbarians, our borders will be peaceful for many years. My life is cheap; whether I live or die probably won't change much. But the general cannot die. As long as the general lives, we still have hope."
Helan Zong stared at him, breathing heavily. "Why?"
Among hundreds of thousands of troops, there were so many soldiers that he didn't even know this man's name. He just happened to be under one of his officers and was assigned to the rearguard.
During the retreat, many had died in the enemy's pursuit and ambushes, but this soldier had survived.
Surviving was not easy. Why would he choose a path of certain death? Even if he fled now, Helan Zong was in no position to hold him accountable.
The soldier swallowed hard and replied, "I am also wounded, though not as badly as the general. I don't know how long I can hold out. The general bought time for the army. I want to buy time for the general. Trading my life for the general's—it's worth it."
Helan Zong closed his eyes, took a slow breath, and said, "What is your name? What do you want?"
Hearing this, the soldier dropped to his knees and kowtowed to Helan Zong, his voice choked. "My name is Lu Zhong. I am from Anshui County, Qingyang Prefecture. I have a wife and a son at home. I have served for two years without returning, and I feel guilty toward my family. If this campaign can be won, I hope the general will... look after my family. At least, don't let the widow and orphan suffer too much."
Helan Zong was silent for a moment, then said, "I will remember... Lu Zhong. I, Helan Zong, am indebted to you today. I will not break my word. If I can return, I will ensure your family's lifelong comfort and security."
The soldier wept loudly, then wiped his tears, put on Helan Zong's armor, mounted his horse, and left the cave—never to return.
With the decoy leading the pursuers astray, Helan Zong, under the protection of others, successfully returned to the main camp. The weather also cleared; the snow stopped. Reinforcements and supplies finally arrived.
A brief truce ensued. No matter how the barbarians provoked, Helan Zong held his ground and did not sally forth. About half a month later, the snow began to show signs of melting. Helan Zong then sent troops to swiftly cross the frozen river, ambushing the barbarians from behind when they came to challenge. Trapped between the river and the Dayue forces, the barbarians were forced onto the ice, which gave way beneath them—drowning countless soldiers.
With that victory, Helan Zong regained the initiative. Pressing on, he recaptured several cities lost for nearly a century, driving the weakened barbarians back a thousand li, ensuring they dared not encroach again.
When the news of victory reached the Capital, the emperor was overjoyed. The Xuan Duke Mansion was at the height of its glory.
As the army triumphantly returned, Helan Zong had not forgotten the soldier Lu Zhong who sacrificed himself for him. On the way back, he happened to pass Qingyang Prefecture, so he made a slight detour and personally went to Lu Zhong's hometown.
He brought a generous sum to console Lu Zhong's family. However, he learned that not long before, after receiving the death notice, Lu Zhong's wife had been overwhelmed with grief, fallen ill, and had passed away half a month earlier.
"That boy Lu Shuo lost both parents in quick succession and was taken in by his uncle and aunt in the same village. But from what I saw, they didn't treat him well. Their own children only did light chores, while they heaped all the heavy, dirty work on Lu Shuo. His clothes were clearly too short, and no one bothered to find him a proper fit."
Helan Zong recalled his first sight of Lu Shuo: the boy had just come down from the mountain, holding a notched chopping knife and carrying a huge bundle of firewood taller than himself. His face was dirty and sallow, and he stared at Helan Zong with a mix of bewilderment and wariness.