Chapter 115: The Luo House

At dawn the next day, Jingzhe and Guyu came to help Shen Miao rise. When they entered the room, they found her asleep on the bed—the quilt gone, a fox-fur cloak covering her instead.
Both were shocked. When they left last night there had been no such cloak. Where had it come from? Jingzhe woke Shen Miao. Shen Miao, seeing the fur, was blank herself.
The plum wine's kick was fierce—but as the farmer's wife had said, no headache the next morning. Her head was clear. Yet she remembered nothing of the night—not even why she had insisted on sleeping alone in that room.
Gu Yu held the snow-white fur. "Miss—where did this cloak come from?"
Shen Miao took it and shook her head.
"Miss—all your clothes boxes are here. Did you drunk last night pull it from a trunk?" Jingzhe tried. "But it seems we've never seen this fur before."
They did not think in other directions. Shen Miao had stayed safe; guards outside; nothing happened. Only the cloak appeared from nowhere. Shen Miao said: "Take it out and ask the farmers if it's theirs."
The farmer shook his head at once. "Such fine fox skin—our house hasn't got it. Young lady must be mistaken."
Shen Qiu took the cloak too. "This doesn't look common, Sister. Where did it come from? Must be worth good silver. The work is grand—only the cut seems off, a bit large on you."
Shen Miao took the cloak, puzzled. She truly did not remember owning it. Hearing it was valuable, she tucked it away without changing expression and lied smoothly: "Now I recall—it was bought in Ding long ago. Jingzhe, put it away."
Jingzhe had been trying to remember when Shen Miao bought it. At Shen Miao's words she stopped thinking and said yes, storing the cloak in a trunk. Shen Miao shook her head. Whatever its origin—on the road to Xiaochun City they would need silver. Shen Xin was not what he had been. If purse grew tight, this cloak could be exchanged for a useful sum. Then messy guesses mattered less.
Time always passes quickly.
Mood shapes what you see. Though the road to Xiaochun wound through high mountains and muddy hardship, dusty and weary, Shen Miao never once cried that she was tired. The vanguard soldiers once treated as baggage grew close to Shen Xin's loyal men through shared hardship on the march.
They had left the capital in the second month of spring. In the eighth month they reached Xiaochun City at last.
Xiaochun sat on Ming Qi's border—a very small town. Its highest official was the garrison general Luo Sui. For years Luo Sui had kept the people safe. Because it was so far from Ding, everyone knew such a post was no plum assignment. Over the years the Luo army had scattered almost completely. The Luo name held weight only in Xiaochun itself.
When the gate guards saw Luo Xueyan draw the Luo waist token from her robe, they straightened at once and sent word to the Luo house. Xiaochun was tiny. A train of people entering drew every eye. Learning it was Luo Xueyan returned with her household, the street buzzed with excitement.
Jingzhe lifted a corner of the carriage curtain and whispered to Shen Miao: "Miss—this is Xiaochun City."
Shen Miao glanced out.
Xiaochun was not the wasteland Ding's noble daughters claimed. A frontier post, yet lively. Wind and sand were heavier; girls' complexions ran darker than capital maids'. Customs were open—spirited, even mischievous—full of life. Shops lined the streets. Nothing was desperately scarce.
Jingzhe grew cheerful; her worry vanished. "Miss—Xiaochun isn't so different from Ding."
"Does Jiaojiao like it here?" Luo Xueyan asked uneasily. She feared Shen Miao could not bear the place. Luo Xueyan had grown up here—no problem for her. Shen Xin and Shen Qiu were battlefield men—they would not complain. Only the pampered daughter worried her.
Shen Miao smiled. "It's quite good."
Luo Xueyan relaxed and laughed. "We'll go to your grandfather's now. You've never met him since you were old enough to know people. You have two uncles, three elder male cousins, and one elder sister. They're all good people. They'll like you very much."
Madam Luo had died early. Luo Sui had remained a widower ever since. The Luo house had three siblings; Luo Xueyan was the youngest. When Shen Miao was born the Luos had traveled all the way to Ding to see her once. After that Xiaochun was too far and duties bound both sides—Shen Miao and the Luos had never met. In her past life her impression of the Luo house was faint. Hearing Luo Xueyan now, she only smiled.
Before the Luo gate a crowd had gathered—curious townsfolk and Luo kin alike.
Luo Sui stood foremost. Behind him a middle-aged couple; behind them three youths and a girl in a row. The young men were straight-featured and bold—still young, yet already showing a general's bearing. The girl had healthy wheat skin and apricot eyes; her small diamond mouth suggested a sharp temper. She tugged the youth beside her. "Eldest Brother—what kind of person is this cousin anyway?"
The one she pulled was good-natured. He said gently: "She should be a fine person."
"What 'fine'—can't you be clear?" the girl pressed. "Is she pretty? Those Ding girls who visit Xiaochun are all beautiful—but their tempers are cloying. And that official's daughter who came last year said she knew Cousin—" She lowered her voice, but her clear tone still carried: "They say Cousin's reputation in Ding is terrible."
"Tan'er!" A sharp shout cut her off—Luo Sui, glaring at the girl called Tan'er. She straightened at once, stuck out her tongue, and fell silent.
She was silent—but a younger, livelier boy came over and took Tan'er's hand. "Grandfather plays favorites before Cousin even arrives. I want to see what kind of figure she is."
Shen Xin fought on the northwest for years and passed through Xiaochun each campaign. He came yearly; Shen Qiu knew the Luos. Of all the Luos, the one they were most curious about was Shen Miao—born and never seen again. The world is large and small at once. Xiaochun sometimes received demoted officials or travelers. Ding gossip traveled here too. The tales of the rough legitimate daughter were famous even in Xiaochun.
Fame is one thing; meeting another. Today they would see. Most of the crowd, truth be told, wanted to know what Shen Miao looked like.
While the girl and boy whispered, the carriages rolled up slowly. Shen Xin and Shen Qiu rode at the front. Soldiers followed behind.
"Father." Shen Xin dismounted. Shen Qiu hurried after and grinned at Luo Sui. "Grandfather."
Luo Sui's gaze swept father and son—then fixed on the carriage. He had seen enough of men. What he wanted most was his granddaughter.
A mild, smiling, slightly plump woman said: "Little Sister and Jiaojiao must be in the carriage. Such a long road—they must be tired."
The curtain lifted. Jingzhe and Guyu helped Luo Xueyan down. Luo Xueyan reached back into the carriage—and helped a young girl out.
The girl bent as she stepped down, lifted her face—a fresh, lively countenance—and turned. Luo Xueyan took her hand and led her forward. "Jiaojiao—we're home."
Tan'er opened her mouth—and said nothing.
Xiaochun's wind and sand were harsh and dry. Fair skin was rare among local girls—rarer still such a white, moist young face. Her features were delicate; the pale skin made her like a painting—ink brows, dark eyes, small nose, lips red and soft.
What startled people more was her bearing. Hand in hand with Luo Xueyan, she looked a pampered young lady. Beside Luo Xueyan's heroic dash she did not wilt like a trailing orchid on a hawk. Instead she seemed more commanding, more noble—as if she were the one leading.
Townsmen and Luos alike were dumbstruck.
In judging people, bearing matters as much as face. For women, quality comes before color. This Shen girl's quality outshone her looks.
Step by step she followed Luo Xueyan to Luo Sui. Luo Sui was tall, deep-eyed, high-nosed—more severe and distant than Shen Xin's rough warmth. He frowned at Shen Miao, cold enough to frighten a timid girl to tears. Everyone expected the delicate Ding miss to crumble. Tan'er and the boy beside her curled their lips for the show.
Shen Miao looked up and met Luo Sui's eyes. Her brows were easy; her body soft—she did not tense at his glare. Her gaze was calm. She even smiled slightly—with the attitude of one above looking down. Luo Sui froze.
Above looking down?
In Xiaochun the Luo house were lords of the soil. Who here could be above them?
After a pause Luo Sui suddenly laughed—a great booming laugh that startled everyone. He patted Shen Miao's head and called in a full voice: "Girl—why don't you greet me?"
"Grandfather." Shen Miao answered meekly.
Luo Xueyan exhaled. Luo Sui was not like Shen Xin, who spoiled Shen Miao to the sky. Luo Sui had been a strict father from youth. Even Luo Xueyan had feared him as a girl. He was older now, less fierce than before—but the habit of frightening little girls remained. She had feared he would scare Shen Miao. Shen Miao had taken it calmly. Luo Xueyan felt a secret pride.
Shen Miao's manner surprised the onlookers too. A girl from Ding was not only tears and silk—she had nerve. Tan'er bit the younger boy's ear: "She's only pretending not to be afraid!"
The eldest, best-tempered youth studied Shen Miao thoughtfully and said nothing.
Luo Xueyan introduced the rest. Besides Luo Sui, the Luo house had two sons—Shen Miao's uncles Luo Lianying and Luo Liantai.
Luo Lianying's wife was Madam Yu—gentle and steady. Two sons: Luo Ling and Luo Sa.
Luo Liantai's wife was Madam Ma—sharp, from a merchant family. A sister and brother: Luo Tan and Luo Qian.
Luo Ling, eighteen, was Shen Miao's eldest cousin—mild and courteous like Madam Yu, thoughtful and polite. Luo Sa, seventeen, his twin in blood, had a violent temper. He looked at Shen Miao and sneered: "Ding's little lady—can you stand Xiaochun's sand?" Luo Lianying kicked him hard.
Luo Tan, sixteen, was doubtful but curious more than warm. Luo Qian, Shen Miao's age, stared up and down with a round face and picky eye.
After greetings and sorting who was who, Luo Sui had Luo Xueyan take them to their quarters.
The Luo house lived together in harmony. The Shen family were placed in the courtyard Luo Xueyan had used before marriage—room enough. While servants made up the rooms, everyone talked in the main hall.
After the first warmth, talk turned serious. The Luo house differed from the Shen. In Ding the Shen branches followed civil paths unlike Shen Xin's military road—no court matters shared. They were not full blood; another layer of belly between them—private affairs were not aired. The Luos were one family. Luo Lianying and Luo Liantai could hear; the young could hear; even the women could hear. With the Shen family arrived, they must hear too.
"Yan'er—what do you plan now that you've returned to Xiaochun?" Luo Sui asked.
Shen Xin had written earlier about losing the tally and retreating here. Distance had made counsel hard. Now face to face, the question had to be asked.
Luo Xueyan smiled. "Father, why ask like that? We came to Xiaochun to live in peace." Rebuilding the Luo army—she and Shen Xin had not yet found how to tell Luo Sui. With his old-fashioned ways, it would need careful approach.
"Third Sister," Luo Lianying spoke. He glanced at Shen Xin, hesitated, then asked: "The Shen army was taken just like that… is there truly no way back?"
They were military men. They understood what an army meant to a general. Shen Xin had fought for decades. To make him a idle civilian overnight—who would not rage? They would feel the same.
Shen Xin bowed his hands. "Elder Brother—blame gains nothing. Better accept what is. Xiaochun is fine. I want to live where Xueyan lived."
At that Luo Sui looked at Shen Xin longer. His stern face eased somewhat. "Rare that you've grown so calm."
Everyone knew Shen Xin's rushing straight manner. Such peaceful words were unexpected.
Shen Miao watched the varied Luo faces and suddenly asked: "Grandfather—I hear Turks trouble Xiaochun's border?"
Silence fell at once.
After a moment Madam Ma, quick in temper, laughed. "Jiaojiao, don't fear. Those Turks stay outside the walls. If they enter, our Luo soldiers drive them off. It's been peaceful for years—nothing to dread."
Shen Qiu thought Shen Miao was afraid and soothed her softly. "Aunt is right. Jiaojiao, don't worry."
Shen Miao lowered her eyes. Frontier towns always faced nomad raids. The eastern Turks were one such people—strong bodies, fine horses, fierce in battle. In open fight Ming Qi might lose. But Xiaochun was easy to defend; the Luo name still stood. Turks dared not press close—only small harassment on the border. From August to October the steppe dried; Turks came to Xiaochun to seize goods. Small raids, driven off—folk took it as routine.
But Shen Miao remembered: this very year, Xiaochun would suffer a great disaster.
She nodded as if casual. "Is the Luo army as brave as Father's Shen army? If Turks stormed the city, you could hold them, then."
Luo Sui's face stiffened. Luo Lianying and Luo Liantai looked ill at ease—almost embarrassed. Without a real enemy, the Luo house could not afford such an army's cost. Emperor Wenhui had long washed his hands of Xiaochun. Years passed—the Luo army had scattered like the Shen vanguard: farmers, merchants, a few men drawing pay without work. Aside from yearly small shows of force on the border, they did little. Comparing Luo army to Shen army was a slap in the Luo face.
Luo Sa turned hostile at once. "What do you mean by that?"
Luo Ling tugged him and said gently to Shen Miao: "Second Brother spoke harshly. Cousin, don't mind him."
"Ding people are different," Luo Tan sniffed. "We've lived here in peace for years. Cousin arrives afraid of everything. Rest easy—Turks won't enter the city. It's been that way for decades…"
Shen Miao smiled lightly. "And if they did enter—then what?"
Luo Tan had not expected pushback. She froze.
Luo Sui on the high seat did not speak. The Luos raised their young this way—let them argue, discover for themselves. Elders watched quietly. Shen Miao's words interested him. He stayed silent; Luo Lianying and the rest could only watch the juniors debate.
"How could they enter?" Luo Tan said hotly. "Those Turks only want grain and tools. After October the drought ends—they stop. Storming a city means war. It's not that easy!"
Shen Miao's face did not move. "For more than ten years—only grain and tools. Don't you find that too easily satisfied?"
Everyone paused.
Luo Qian, near Shen Miao's age, asked curiously: "Little Cousin—what do you mean?"
"If it were me, I would not be so satisfied," Shen Miao answered gently. "Brave soldiers, strong horses, a steppe to fall back on—all of it better than scattered militia and worn weapons in Xiaochun. Why not fight for more? If they don't, perhaps they only lack the city's roads—but they've probed for more than ten years. A town this small—once a year, one place each time—you could draw a map. Two armies face each other. One has everything ready yet holds back—is it only habit all these years? Must they obey? Who ordered that?"
A long silence. No one in the hall spoke.
Everyone had thought the Turks had no ambition for Xiaochun—only raided for shortage. Shen Miao's words woke them from a sleep they had never known they were in.
True—Turks had everything. Why not ambition? If they meant to swallow Xiaochun, how could the town resist?
Luo Sa's expression shifted. He looked at Shen Miao. His tone was still rough but cooler than before. "So what are you saying?"
"I see the Luo army—not as tight as the Shen army," Shen Miao said politely. In truth they were sand, not rope. At the flash of pain on Luo Sui's face she smiled. "Mother told me when she was young she saw Grandfather lead the Luo army in glory. Has Grandfather never thought to restore that light?"
Restore the Luo army's glory!
The hall gasped. Even Shen Xin and Luo Xueyan stared at Shen Miao in disbelief.
Luo Qian and Luo Tan's eyes lit. Youth always hungered for splendor. Shen Miao's picture fed vanity. Luo Ling and Luo Sa, older, showed less heat—but hope flickered in Luo Sa's eyes.
Luo Sui studied Shen Miao a while, then laughed. "Little girl—you've got ambition. Rare. A place like Ding still raised a spine like yours." He clearly admired her.
Luo Xueyan and Shen Xin swelled with pride. But a moment later Luo Sui sighed, tone unreadable. "Still, girl—restoring the Luo army isn't as simple as you say. Men, horses, grain—all cost silver. Where would the Luo house find it? Keeping troops with no battlefield—would you spend every Luo coin on that?"
Train a thousand days, use one hour—but state silver fed such troops. A border garrison Wenhui could ignore would get no funds. For the Luo house to pay the full cost themselves—with no clear enemy, no clear war—was bleak indeed.
"Armies should make a name. The court won't give silver because the Luo army doesn't stand out. But if the Luo army wins fame in battle—even to balance factions at court—His Majesty will send silver himself. As for enemies…" Shen Miao smiled. "Far—Qin and Great Liang. Near—Turks and Huns. Ming Qi never lacks foes. Sharpen your blades and you'll be sent to farther fields. Grandfather—don't you think?"
Whatever the truth of her words, to analyze power with a smile and visible ambition—to come from gold and jade pampering yet feel like a woman who had crawled up from the mud—made one dizzy.
Luo Sui suddenly raged. He stood, sleeves flying, voice cold. "Rebuilding the Luo army—no more. I forbid it! Xueyan—take them to rest. We will not speak of this again." He looked at no one and left.
The anger seemed unmotivated. Luo Xueyan was baffled. Shen Qiu ruffled Shen Miao's head and stood with her firmly. "Sister—well done!"
Luo Sa glanced over and said low to Luo Ling: "This little cousin isn't simple."
Luo Ling smiled. "Perhaps."
Luo Tan sniffed. "Big talk is nothing. Even Grandfather was angered."
Luo Qian shook his head, eyes bright on Shen Miao talking with Shen Qiu. "Not just talk. She's pretty too. Sister—prettier than you!"
Luo Tan glared at him hard.