[Alternate t.i.tle: Red Dress

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Jiahui's simple life in the Northwest pa.s.sed by with unusual comfort. She hangs out in all sorts of places, all day long, and all the people within the barracks could be considered familiar with her, knowing that this young lady Rong is the fiancée of the war G.o.d-like Minor General, Zhongli Luo. If the hopping-mad Marquis Zhenguo in the far-off capital knew of this, he'd likely be mad enough to kill this Zhongli guy with no second thought.

The formerly extremely hard-to-fight Northwestern Xirong that everyone was afraid of going up against were now, bewilderingly, always made to c.r.a.p themselves in terror thanks to one person's talents. Zhongli Luo also finds her simple life pa.s.sing by with joyousness, the halo around her head s.h.i.+ning ever brighter. On several occasions, she led the troops to overwhelm and burn, kill, and loot the Xirong; even the energies of the soldiers under her command seemed to be different from others'.

This occasion was once again the aftermath of a big battle, their group returning to the barracks coated in blood. What greeted them was a great many large pots giving off steam, a few women giving commands among them.

Why does Zhongli Luo get the sense that a few of them are somewhat familiar-looking? She stares, and… isn't that her Jiahui and her maids?!

Right when she was to call out to her, one of the people under the girls' command looked up to see the large group coming back and was slightly startled, but smiled afterwards. “General, sister-in-law had us make a little something delicious to treat everyone to.”

He'd barely finished speaking when Jiahui glared at him. “Don't start shouting for no reason, Xiao Zhao!”

Xiao Zhao grinned. “It'll happen sooner or later, sis.”

At this moment, the group behind Zhongli Luo all spoke up with grat.i.tude. “Thank you, Madam.”

With so many people yelling, the sound could probably the pa.s.sed on to several other camps, and some people immediately wouldn't know where to put themselves upon hearing it.

The meal Jiahui prepared for everyone this time is very rich, brothy, and meaty. No one holds themselves back, forming a long queue all on their own initiayive.

Zhongli Luo also wanted to eat, but when she got close, Jiahui dragged her away.

“You go back home to eat,” Jiahui said into her ear. “Hm. When you're done, wash up. You smell gross.”

She'd been outside for such a long time. A hot bath really was what she needed.

After eating a share of the prepared meal, she soaked in the water, feeling the utmost amount of cozy and thinking that dying in this spot right now would be fine. What she ended up hearing was a creaking sound as the door to her room opened.

Just as she was about to scold whoever it was, the sound of Jiahui's voice came through the screen. “Ah-Luo, I'm coming in. It doesn't matter if I do, right?”

…What's the point of asking if she's already entered?

Zhongli Luo rubbed her temples from the headache the girl was giving her from her increasing disobedience. “Jiahui, don't make trouble.”

The other laughed at her. “I'm not. I'm bringing you clothes.”

“I'm here…”

She didn't get to finish, as she was shocked still upon seeing the clothes in Jiahui's hands.

“Those are them?”

“I made this for you,” Jiahui said with pride. “You know that I'm, uh, not good at anything but needlework.”

“No, what I wanted to ask is… am I seeing right?”

Zhongli Luo gazed at the watery red women's clothing before her. She'd lived for more than twenty years and never had she worn something like this.

Jiahui lowered her eyes. “You didn't. I based your size on the amount I could hold my arms around you, so I don't know if it'll fit.”

No wonder this girl was frequently hugging her this past month and making her think something had happened.

Looking at the skirts, her brow twisted up into a knot. “I don't want it, Jiahui. You keep it for yourself to wear.”

The other girl shook her head. “You're taller and thinner than me, I can't.”

“Can't you just alter it?”

“No. I can make clothes, but I can't alter them.”

Zhongli Luo is speechless. She can't believe the words coming out of her mouth.

After putting down the feminine dress, Jiahui took her other clothes. “My dear big sister, if you really won't wear it, then you can stay in the water forever, okay?”

Zhongli Luo still can't talk at all, who– who did this Rong girl learn such things from! This…! This is how a hooligan acts!

As she felt the water begin to get cold, Zhongli Luo sighed. This might just be Jiahui coming to admonish her, so she'll have no choice but to accept her fate and put the clothes on. Jiahui really wasn't just talking big about her tailoring skills – the st.i.tching is densely woven, the embroidery exquisite, and there isn't a single place where it doesn't fit her – and she'd be able to make it if she went off and became an actual tailor. But… how is she supposed to put this on? It's so hard.

At this moment, Jiahui was again at the doorway. “I'm coming back in.”

“Don't!”

There was the sound of the door opening as soon as she said that. As she really didn't want anyone seeing her looking like this, Zhongli Luo quickly hid behind the bathtub.

Jiahui didn't need to try and find her because the edge of her skirt peeking out had already ratted her out.

Walking over, she pulls Zhongli Luo up, who is covering up her face with a hand like she's too ashamed to see anyone ever again.

Jiahui pried off that hand, then ended up being taken aback by the breathtaking sight. “What are you doing that for? You obviously look great.”

She doesn't just ‘look great'. Zhongli Luo seems like she came out of a painting and makes anything she wears look good. Jiahui has always been aware that she had a manly elegance in men's clothing; who could've known the she'd also be completely stunning in women's?

Jiahui couldn't stop herself from pinching the other's pretty face. “I have to say, you're a lot better-looking than Cen Biling.”

Again with Cen Biling, Zhongli Luo thinks a bit exasperatedly. It's been a few years now and people are actually still thinking about her, even though she should now be twenty and long since married.

Jiahui beams as she pushes the other to sit, grabbing a comb to help her tame her hair as she loosens it from its topknot.

She nodded with satisfaction after taking in her appearance. “Mhm, you really are like an immortal come down from the Ninth Heaven!”

Zhongli Luo stared at her with a very red face. “Don't say things you don't mean.”

“I can't not say that if my father had made me a man, I definitely would have pestered you until I could marry you and bring you back home,” Jiahui said with a smile.

Without waiting for the other girl's reaction, she went on to abruptly shake her head. “Nope, nope, nope. If that was the case, I'd spend a really long time worrying about if I was cut-sleeve or not. No good, no good.”

Zhongli Luo shakes her own head. Ah, this little lady likes to think up a bunch of rubbish. As always.

At this moment, one of her soldiers pa.s.sed by and noticed the door wasn't shut. “General, have you finished was.h.i.+ng?” He asked. “I'll help you dump the water out.”

That sentence scared Zhongli Luo into a full-body tremble. “No need for that!”

“General, why does your voice sound so weird?!”

As he spoke, he seemed to have stepped into the room, immediately causing her face to go the color of congee. “You don't need to worry about it!”

Her voice was too high and cracking.

The soldier knew of her temper and didn't go any further in, silently shutting the door as he went back out.

She promptly let out a long sigh of relief. Jiahui placed a hand over her stomach, almost unable to contain her laugh.

At noon the next day, she was once again going out with food to go and give to Zhongli Luo. This has already become habit for her.

Others smiled at her as she walked along the path. “This General Zhongli is truly blessed.”

She blushed, not having the nerve to give a verbal response to that.

Right when she was about to get there, she came face-to-face with someone who seemed out of the ordinary, and his rank is likely rather high from what she can tell. She continued on her way after she bowed to him.

She hadn't even taken three steps when the man called out to stop her. “Who are you? These barracks are important. How did a woman like you get in without permission?”

Jiahui felt a chill all over. “I'm just here to deliver food, General.”

Mu Qian guessed that she was someone's woman and huffed coldly. “Is what's in the barracks not edible? Your husband's pretty finicky.”

What a harsh tone he's daring to use with her. Jiahui's temper flares and she wants nothing more than to turn around and throw what she's holding right into his face, but she restrains herself. “This has nothing to do with her. I just hate to see her eat so poorly is all.”

“It'll be hard for him to amount to anything if he can't handle this little bit of hards.h.i.+p.”

She was a bit displeased upon hearing that. How could she not be clear about whether her Zhongli Luo is going to amount to anything or not?

She swiveled around to face him with some annoyance. “You shouldn't bother with worrying about this, Mister General. It's not like I'm charging in to this place blind. Are you going to chop my head off?”

Who here'd dare to chop off a Rong's head? Even Prince Ning wouldn't do so casually. No matter what she said, she was of n.o.ble blood and a finger couldn't be laid on her. How could her beheading be explained when it came time to do so to her dad and grandfather?

Mu Qian had, naturally, never even considered doing so, but now he was a bit displeased, and actually somewhat enraged upon hearing her savage words.

However, as he took in this young lady's bright and lovely looks, he had an inexplicable sense of déjà vu…

Here I am, on a spring excursion,

With apricot flowers blown full on my head.

In that young fellow in yonder path—

More than romance and love, I have read.

If I could just be married to him,

My destiny would be for e'er set.

Granted: he might at last forsake me.

I'd have nothing whate'er to regret. [1]

In his haze, it seems like he's gone back to the banquet from more than a dozen years ago. She's shoved out by her sisters who insist that she show off her skills with the qin. None of the ways she's declined have yielded success, so she has no choice but to comply with them. The problem is that she's worrying about what she should play. She touches the qin's strings, stealthily raising her eyes just in time to unexpectedly meet his own astounded gaze. Her face blushed beyond her control, and her hands moved with her thoughts, letting her play a spring excursion of a maiden's hidden heart.

“Whose woman are you?” Mu Qian mumbled his question.

Under the impression that he wanted to know to blame Zhongli Luo for this afterwards, Jiahui shook her head. “I'm not telling you.”

“Then, is your surname Yu?” He asked again.

Yu? An alarm bell blared in her mind. This guy knew her grandfather's family! She can't say anything more, then, or else she'll be utterly exposed…

“It isn't.”

That's not a lie. It really isn't.

However, as she took in the appearance of the elegant, 30-ish-year-old man with a scar at the corner of his eye… why did that strike a note in her? Oh, right! It's what Zhongli Luo had said about General Mu Qian; thirty years old, a scar on his face, fiendish-looking. Is this the one? He's more handsome than she had imagined. She reckons that she's also only slightly pretty in Zhongli Luo's little head.

“What is it actually, then?” Mu Qian took another step forward, gaze fixed on her and tone getting somewhat menacing.

Seeing him like so scared her a little. She hurriedly shook her head. “How can a girl's name be told to anyone at random? Do forgive my lack of comment.”

After that, she turned away with the desire to flee. Mu Qian reached out with the intention to pull her arm, but she moved away from him, firmly fastened in the embrace of one rus.h.i.+ng-over Zhongli Luo.

She looked at Jiahui anxiously. “Are you okay? What's going on now?”

Still unsettled from the soul-fleeing fright, Jiahui pointed at Mu Qian and pouted. “He's bullying me!”

Zhongli Luo creased her brow, turning to look at the forever-disorderly Mu Qian with some degree of indignation worn on her face. She did her best to maintain a mild tone as she asked, “How has she offended you, General Mu?”

It seemed like he didn't hear it. All he did was watch Jiahui quietly, his expression seeming to have a tad of sadness. A long time later, he shut his eyes and shook his head. “It doesn't matter. I just thought she was someone else.”

Really, there's barely two parts of similarity, it's not like… after so many years, why can he still not forget…?

He turned and left, his footsteps somewhat rushed.

Jiahui watched his retreating figure with an indescribable feeling, frowning. Was there something wrong with his head?

She didn't think more on it, only bringing to mind her purpose in coming here, and pa.s.sed along the stuff she was holding to Zhongli Luo. “Here. Your lunch!”

[1] Sidixiang/Thoughts on the Emperor's Homeland, poem by Wei Zhuang. Copy and pasted because I can't translate poems worth a G.o.dd.a.m.n.