The Jin soldiers retreated successively. King Yan and Guo Xiao led their troops in hot pursuit after Emperor Jianlong instructed them to inflict severe damage on the Kingdom of Jin.
By the time the messenger caught up with the army, Chongyang (9th day of 9th lunar month) had already passed.
The army had just defeated a group of troops sent by the Kingdom of Jin, killing more than 2,000 people and taking more than 800 prisoners. King Yan, in high spirits, was rewarding the soldiers who made significant contributions in that battle.
Among the young generals under Guo Xiao’s command were his eldest son, Guo Liao, and his nephew, Zhou Tong.
King Yan recognized Guo Liao but was unfamiliar with Zhou Tong, who, despite having a somewhat plain appearance, was tall and strong. He inquired, “When did you have such a nephew?”
Guo Xiao’s three talented sons were already the envy of many, and now even his nephew proved exceptional, causing King Yan to feel a hint of jealousy. Guo Xiao proudly replied, “Zhou Tong’s mother is my cousin. You might not have heard of him, but you must have heard of Zhou Tong’s grandfather.”
Out of several famous generals, and among them the surname of Zhou surfaced. King Yan was surprised, “Could it be that his grandfather was Zhou Lian, Marquis Shuping?”
Guo Xiao smiled and said, “Exactly.”
Wei Luo’s gaze toward Zhou Tong also changed.
Zhou Lian was one of the generals who helped found the country with Emperor Jianlong. After Emperor Jianlong ascended the throne, Zhou Lian was granted the title of Marquis of Shuping and led troops to guard the land of Shu.
King Yan, admiring Zhou Lian, asked, “You, young man, why don’t you come to Yan?”
Zhou Tong responded, “There has been no war for more than ten years, so my grandfather sent us brothers out to practice. The old man said that good generals are honed on the battlefield, and you can’t just study about it.”
King Yan nodded in agreement, “The old master said it right. It makes sense. You all follow him and learn.”
He directed the latter sentence to the three brothers Wei Tong and Guo Jia, as well as Feng Teng, Yang Pengju, and other young military officers.
Everyone expressed their agreement.
King Yan took another look at Zhou Tong, growing more and more satisfied, and an idea popped up in his mind.
After the food and wine landed on the table, and we generals got together, in the middle of the meal, the messenger showed up and handed two letters from the palace to King Yan.
So, King Yan checked out the envelopes, gave one to the guards nearby for safekeeping, and told the messenger to pass the other one to Wei Luo.
Wei Luo took it, all poker-faced, and slid it into the folds of his sleeves.
Feng Teng, sharp-eyed as ever, was watching closely.
After the feast, as Wei Luo headed back to his tent, Feng Teng tailed him like a persistent shadow, suggesting, “Third Master, maybe open it first and check if there’s a reply from Qiuniang in there.”
Wei Luo, still holding the envelope, shot back with a cold, “No.”
Feng Teng countered, “You didn’t even look at it; how can you be so sure?”
When Wei Luo reached his tent, he asked Feng Teng to wait at the entrance.
As the curtain dropped, Wei Luo tore open the envelope, finding just a thin sheet of paper inside. He told the shadow on the curtain, “No.”
Even though Feng Teng had half-expected that Qiuniang might not reply, he was still holding onto a glimmer of hope, asking, “Did the third lady mention Qiuniang or maybe pass on the message?”
Feng Teng sighed and wandered away, nursing his resentment.
Seated in a chair, Wei Luo started to go through the letter. He read each sentence about Xiao Heng slowly, then his wife pregnancy’s updates, and his elder brother’s mischievous escapades. Wei Luo frowned at these bits, not too thrilled about his nephew’s mischief and wondering why his wife included such details.
In the end, Wei Luo’s gaze lingered on the remaining words, “Thinking of you, missing you, looking forward to your return.”
His earlobes tinged with a slight red hue. Wei Luo folded the letter along the creases and slid it back into the envelope, but his wife’s shadow kept playing in his mind.
Since he returned from the capital that year, she had transformed. No longer cautious and timid, she wasn’t meticulous in serving him in daily life. She made sure to deliver a bowl of herbal tea or iced melons and fruits promptly in cold weather, and provided a hand protection plaster when it was chilly.
When he competed with others, Madam Yin was oblivious but held an unwavering belief in his abilities. Before setting off, she insisted on sending him outside Donghua Gate at dawn, even when pregnant.
Even in intimate matters in the carriage, she grew bolder, unafraid to take the initiative.
Holding the envelope in his hand, Wei Luo drifted into various memories.
Suddenly, Feng Teng’s voice interrupted from outside, “Third Master, will you still write letters to Pingcheng? How about bringing them for me after you write them?”
Wei Luo’s face darkened, replying, “No.”
The letter was meant to report safety, avoiding worry. Writing another one would invite unnecessary speculation. Which soldier on the battlefield didn’t miss their family? Yet, why could he communicate frequently by letters when others had to endure?
Hearing the frustration in his words, Feng Teng ceased his pestering and left sullenly.
After dinner, King Yan asked Wei Luo to stay for a while.
“What did your wife say in her letter? Are the children okay?” The war was crucial, but King Yan also longed for news from home, wondering if his sons were managing their duties and studies well, and if his grandchildren were in good health.
Yet, Princess Xu’s letter only reported positive news, and it was all empty words to reassure him, same as if she didn’t write anything.
Wei Luo pondered for a moment before remarking, “It’s all trivial matters, with most of the content focusing on Wu Lang.”
He proceeded to tell him the stories about Xiao Heng, making Yan Wang squint his eyes and smile, then inquire, “Did she mention anyone else?”
Wei Luo found himself compelled to recount the incident involving San Lang’s head injury, assuring, “But it’s just a superficial wound, nothing to worry about.”
King Yan nodded thoughtfully, “No need to fret; everyone experiences bumps and bruises. Besides San Lang, what else did she write?”
Unable to divulge the scandal involving his second brother and the woman, Wei Luo lowered his gaze, feigning embarrassment.
After a moment, King Yan realized that his son must have shared some secret words with his third daughter-in-law. Consequently, King Yan dismissed his son.