My personal maid, Chun Tao, came running out with red eyes, clutching a faded white jacket in her hand, holding onto the hem of my clothes tightly.
"Miss, I'll go with you! I can do laundry, and I can even sew up your wounds. My needlework is better than the embroiderers in the palace!"
I pried her hand away, my fingertips brushing against her red, frostbitten fingertips; the warmth of those fingers sent shivers down my spine.
"Keep this and guard the black iron spear blank in the armory for me. The one with the character 'Mu' engraved on the butt end, don't let the Grand Tutor take it to melt down and forge a sword."
"When I get back, I'll show you a set of 'Pear Blossom Spear' moves; my spear flourishes are even more beautiful than the calligraphy the Grand Tutor taught me."
I was mingling in a wagon in a grain transport convoy from the north. The wheels were rolling over the gravel on the official road, and the jolting made my bones ache.
The cart was covered with rough burlap sacks, which made my back tingle. I hugged the tassel of my spear to my chest, my face pressed against the cool tassel, just like I was hugging the spear tassel that my mother used to wear on her chest.
Old Zhou, the driver of the carriage, was a veteran of the North. Seeing me huddled in the corner, he tossed me a bran cake: "Little kid, it's cold in the North, have something to tide you over."
I took a bite, and crumbs fell onto my clothes. They were dry and scratchy, but they were more filling than the pastries in the palace.
Three days later, when he arrived at the barracks, the old soldier Wang Huzi greeted him with a copper pipe in his mouth and a tobacco pouch hanging from the pipe stem, embroidered with a crooked camellia.
It was only later that I learned it was embroidered by his daughter who died in battle.
Seeing that I was as thin as a bean sprout bent by the wind, he threw me a set of faded coarse cloth military uniform: "What are you doing here, little kid? The barracks isn't a dollhouse for making clay figures!"
The collar of the military uniform was half a head too short, revealing the collarbone, and the trouser legs were rolled up three times and still dragged on the ground, leaving mud on the shoes with every step.
I gripped the tassel on my rifle tightly without saying a word, simply draping my uniform over my shoulder, my voice harsher than the wind.
“I’m here to carry a gun, not to mold clay figures. My father is the Duke of Mu, and my mother is the Protector General of the Nation. I’m here to kill barbarians for them.”
Wang Huzi's pipe stopped in mid-air, staring at me for a long time before suddenly laughing: "Old Mu's daughter? Okay, that's tough!"
That night, I plunged into the snow to practice my horse stance. Before dawn, as soon as the bugle call broke through the darkness, I stood firm in the center of the training ground, my feet crunching through the frost and snow.
The gun barrel was made of the lowest grade of wrought iron, so heavy that it made my shoulders go numb and my palms blistered.
The blister burst, and blood seeped out, mixing with sweat and sticking to the gun barrel, which only made me grip it even tighter.
My mother taught me that I must hold the gun firmly, and that the blood on my palms can make the gun recognize its master, so that I can shoulder the burden of my family and country.
Wrapped in a stiff, coarse military blanket at night, still smelling of the previous soldier's sweat, I listened to Wang Huzi and the others tell stories about my parents around the campfire.
The firelight illuminated the scars on their faces, making their eyes shine: "Your father guarded Yanmen Pass back then, and the Western Qiang people besieged it for three days and three nights."
When food ran out, they boiled the meat of their warhorses. When the horse meat was gone, they chewed on grass roots and even boiled and ate the leather from the saddles.
When their arrows ran out, they fought hand-to-hand with swords. In the end, the five hundred soldiers, all wounded, managed to defend the city gate as if it were made of iron!
Every time the Western Qiang attacked, they left behind a field of heads, even filling the cracks in the city gates. The blood froze into ice, making it too slippery to stand on.
Your mother was even more ruthless. She led three thousand light cavalry to flank the enemy, and her spears swept across the area. Arms and legs of the Western Qiang people flew everywhere, and the blood stained the Canghe River in front of Yanmen Pass red.
It didn't fade back to its original color even after six months, and even fish dared not swim near it. Later, the Cang River was renamed the 'Blood River'!
As Wang Huzi spoke, his pipe clanged against the stone, and sparks flew into the snow, extinguishing the pipe instantly.
I clutched the half of the spear tassel, my fingernails digging into my palm, and beads of blood seeped out and stained the red tassel, making it seem as if the tassel had become even more vibrant and red.
I was five years old that year. I was wearing mourning clothes and crying my heart out in the Temple of Heaven while holding my parents' memorial tablets. The lacquer on the tablets was darkened by my tears.
When she opened her eyes again, she had become "half a princess" under the emperor's wing.
The princess had pearl hairpins and brocade skirts, which filled my storeroom to the brim. Even the bronze mirror on the dressing table was a tribute from Persia.
The Emperor secretly had the Emperor bring the rare copy of the "Complete Essentials of Military Classics" and the black iron spear blank, which the Princess did not possess, from the armory, and even gave special instructions to the eunuchs.
"Don't let the Grand Tutor know that Yunxi wants to practice spear fighting, so let her practice. Don't restrict her temperament—the children of the Mu family should be practicing with spears and sticks."
But I was terrified of those looks, the undisguised pity in the eyes of the palace maids when they served me tea, as if I were a blade of grass that would fall over with a gust of wind.
The officials secretly sighed during their meeting, their words implying, "The Mu family only has one heir left, what a pity."
Even the gardeners in the Imperial Garden would water the peonies in front of me twice as much as possible, afraid that this "delicate flower" would get thirsty.
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