There is still a long road ahead.

Page 1 of 3

With a few troublemakers stirring up the crowd, there was simply no way to quiet the commotion. In the end, they pushed Xu Chu and the others out the door. After discussing matters with Chen Rong and his companions for quite a while, they decided to let Zhang Ning recognize Tian Chou as her adoptive father, making up for the regret of lacking both parents at her wedding—a suggestion that came from Zhang Ning herself. Wang Bo, who had always been alone, initially wanted to ask Chen Rong to be his adoptive father as well, but the old man dodged and protested so vigorously that Wang Bo had to give up. In the end, he reluctantly settled on his sworn elder brother Yang Feng as the elder representative, finalizing the hosts for both sides of the wedding.

Next came the selection of an auspicious date and arrangements for the ceremony. Wang Bo, completely ignorant of such proceedings, could only entrust everything to Tian Chou and the others.

With nothing left to do, Wang Bo finally noticed that Yang Feng, lightly tapping his fingers on the table, seemed somewhat preoccupied, as if he had something to say. Smiling, Wang Bo asked, “Brother, what weighs on your mind? Why do you hesitate to speak? We are all family here—there’s no need for reserve.”

At this, Yang Feng smiled softly and, without a word, drew an exquisitely bound silk letter from his robe and handed it to Wang Bo.

Wang Bo took it with a smile and began to read. At first, he nodded repeatedly, but as he read on, the deepening smile on his face abruptly turned into a wry grin. When he finished, he saw everyone looking at him in surprise, so he tilted his mouth and tossed the letter over.

“Hahaha...” The others crowded forward to read it, then burst into another round of laughter.

“Congratulations, my lord! This is a double blessing! Your fortune with women is boundless! Haha...” Chen Rong was the first to speak, his laughter deepening the wrinkles on his face.

Tian Chou chimed in, “How marvelous! I have heard that the women of the Zhen family are renowned for their beauty—graceful and peerless. Though born to merchants, if she is gentle and virtuous, she would make an excellent match! Haha...”

“But... what about Ning’er now? How will you wed her?”

“Leave Ning’er to me! I’ll go and speak to her,” Tian Chou volunteered eagerly.

“It’s no matter! For a man, three wives and four concubines are nothing unusual, let alone for our illustrious General of Xinghan. Ning’er shall be the wife; Lady Zhen, the concubine. Both will be wed together!” Chen Rong delivered the final verdict.

A bright full moon was set high in the dark, blue-tinged sky—the brightest and furthest of the month. Surrounded by countless stars of varying brightness, it seemed especially close to humanity. As that luminous face gradually rose, it brought a refreshing night breeze that swept away the day’s heat.

Wang Bo stood alone at the mountain’s summit, surrounded by vast, interlocking slabs of green stone, pristine under the moonlight and caressed by the wind. Gazing into the distance, he beheld a world shrouded in misty silhouettes and utter silence; even the occasional wolf’s howl seemed to fear disturbing the tranquility, leaving the scene undisturbed for ages. Only the scattered lights of Xinghan City below betrayed a hint of the mortal world.

His robe swayed gently in the wind as Wang Bo stood with hands clasped behind his back upon the green stone, wordless but awash with thoughts.

Tomorrow was to be his wedding day with Zhang Ning and Zhen Jiang. Feeling restless, Wang Bo shook off all mundane matters, left Xinghan City, and climbed the southern mountain alone, letting the cool night air wash away the blood and vexation of war and daily affairs.

After a long time, his body, like that of a meditating monk, seemed to meld with the mountains and the earth, and his wandering thoughts drifted far beyond the world.

He recalled his aging parents from his previous life; his wife, with whom he had shared years of mutual support; his innocent, mischievous child; his old friends of many years...

His fall into an abandoned well, his descent into the underworld; the fierce, menacing wardens; the cunning, venomous demons; the outwardly just but duplicitous judges...

Reborn on the battlefield, he had escaped death, fought government troops, built a mountain stronghold, gathered refugees, marched to Shanwu, founded Xinghan, defeated barbarian cavalry, brought in merchant caravans, and campaigned in Yunzhong... Now, at last, he had secured a place to call home, no longer needing to fear death by hunger or violence, no longer struggling merely to survive.

Past events flashed before his eyes like a lantern show, each step fraught with danger. Having grown accustomed to life and death, Wang Bo now realized he had become more attached to life, more concerned with gains and losses, less carefree than before—like being strapped to a rumbling war chariot, unable to stop, or risk utter ruin. Perhaps this was the burden of those in power.

This constant anxiety left Wang Bo feeling as if he lived in a dream. Was this truly reality, or just a dream from which he would eventually wake? If it was real, then he truly belonged to this era. But what if the grim wardens of the underworld grew bored one day—might they not fling him into yet another world?

There was no way to know, no way to predict. In the end, he concluded: all he could do was live in the present. With that thought, Wang Bo brushed aside the shadows and ripples in his mind and returned to reality.

Looking around, he realized that he had unconsciously spent almost the entire night atop the mountain; the morning star was already rising in the east. As he stepped down from the stone, he felt his legs go weak, stumbled a few steps, and nearly fell—when a sturdy figure emerged from the shadows to steady him. Wang Bo didn’t even need to look to know who it was. The arm was as strong as ever, the movements swift, but the man’s posture was a little awkward, likely from standing still so long to avoid disturbing Wang Bo.

Once steady, Wang Bo looked up at Xu Chu with satisfaction, then, in light spirits, returned to the main tent, leaving all wedding preparations to Yang Feng and the others, and soon fell into a deep, contented sleep.

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Meanwhile, inside and outside Xinghan City, jubilation reigned.

At first, Wang Bo disapproved of Zhen Yi’s decision to “act first and report later”—sending his daughter to Xinghan City with the merchant caravan as if she were a gift. In his previous life, even if a match was arranged, the couple would at least get to know each other before marriage was considered. As someone from the lower rungs of society, Wang Bo had never understood that marriages among the elite were simply alliances for mutual benefit. Thus, he had not even gone to see the poor girl her father had sent as a gesture of goodwill.

Over the following days, his companions patiently explained the advantages: First, befriending the Zhen family would set an example, showing goodwill to all merchants and disregarding social rank—demonstrating Wang Bo’s magnanimity and inclusivity, and inspiring talented men of humble birth to join him.

Second, the Zhen clan had been merchants for generations. Beyond their immense wealth, their knowledge of the northern Han territories and local conditions would be invaluable for intelligence and propaganda.

And so on. But none of these arguments swayed Wang Bo. Not until Zhang Ning, cheeks puffed in indignation, brought the radiant Zhen Jiang to his tent.

“Husband!” came the coquettish, teasing call that made Wang Bo’s heart tremble, his usual pretense of authority melting away.

“How does Sister Jiang look?” Zhang Ning asked.

“She is... naturally of incomparable beauty...” Wang Bo replied.

“Is she worthy of you, husband?”

“Um...? Of course, more than worthy! ...Far more than enough...”

“In that case, why not marry her?”

“This...”

“Jiang has been in Xinghan City for days—everyone knows it! If you do not marry her, what will people think?”

“This... I...,” Wang Bo stammered, sweating under the relentless questioning.

“If husband has no objection, then it’s settled! In a few days, Ning and Sister Jiang will both marry the general and serve him together!” Without waiting for his answer, Zhang Ning pulled the shy, nervous Zhen Jiang forward to pay respects.

“Your humble concubine greets her husband!” Zhen Jiang bowed gracefully, her delicate hands intertwined, head slightly lowered.

“No need for such formality, Jiang!” Wang Bo hastened forward to help the lovely maiden before him, his gaze lingering on her blushing face.

“Ahem!” Zhang Ning’s light cough broke the awkward tension. She led Zhen Jiang away with a few words of laughter, then instructed her to rest well, taking on the air of the household’s mistress.

Watching the graceful Zhen Jiang depart with her maid, Zhang Ning flashed Wang Bo a sidelong, enchanting glance, waved her hand before his eyes, then stepped behind him and began to massage his shoulders.

Wang Bo smiled sheepishly, withdrawing his gaze from Zhen Jiang, and turned his head slightly. “Heh, Ning’er is growing ever more gentle and virtuous...!”

“Was I a shrew before? Hmph!” she replied, tightening her grip, prompting Wang Bo to let out a cooperative yelp.

“Giggle, giggle...” Her laughter was sweet and clear, the fragrance at Wang Bo’s nose growing ever more intoxicating. Zhang Ning leaned in close, her snow-white neck exposed, and whispered playfully in his ear, “May I accept Sister Jiang as a concubine?”

“I... I only feared you wouldn’t approve, Ning’er...”

“If I harbor no objections, or simply don’t mind, what would you say then, husband?”

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“This...”

“Pfft!” Zhang Ning tapped Wang Bo’s temple with a teasing finger. “All men love beauty! Even heroes can’t resist a fair maiden. Are you any different, husband? Pretending to be a gentleman when you’re just as lecherous as any other! Giggle, giggle...” With a burst of laughter, she darted out of the tent.

“Ah...” Wang Bo could only shake his head with a wry smile.

...

The next morning, before even the earliest birds roused from their dreams, Xinghan City was already alive with excitement. In every street and alley, on the city walls and in the barracks, tables laden with food and wine were set up every few hundred paces, some arranged by the authorities, others spontaneously by the people, all celebrating with joy and enthusiasm. Crowds gathered everywhere, faces glowing with happiness, congratulating the general’s residence and each other, bursting into song and displays of talent: fire-breathers, acrobats, singers adapting hometown tunes to praise the General of Xinghan, and storytellers recounting the army’s victories over the barbarians.

As the autumn sun climbed higher, its lingering summer heat did nothing to dampen the crowds’ fervor. In fact, their enthusiasm only grew, reaching a climax when Wang Bo, dressed in wedding finery, emerged from the general’s residence, beaming from ear to ear, with Zhang Ning on his left and Zhen Jiang on his right. Surrounded by the generals of Xinghan, and cheered and blessed by the people, Wang Bo bowed and offered toasts at each table he passed, raising his cup and drinking with all.

Such a grand scene, rare even in a century, continued until dusk, ending only reluctantly as night fell.

Never much of a drinker, Wang Bo deliberately drank himself into a stupor, and remembered nothing about returning home or retiring to bed. On what others would consider the happiest night of his life—the wedding night—he did nothing at all, and missed out on appreciating the differences between the forthright, generous Zhang Ning and the gentle, shy Zhen Jiang.

A little guilty, Wang Bo quietly rose the next morning, careful not to disturb the sleeping Zhang Ning at his side. He couldn’t resist a gentle kiss on her lovely cheek before slipping away to his own tent. After freshening up, he sent Zhen Yu off with a trove of unique gifts from Xinghan City to the Zhen family in Jizhou to announce the happy news.

But as the saying goes, you can’t hide forever. Before Wang Bo could figure out where to lie low, Zhang Ning appeared at his tent, dragging along the bashful Zhen Jiang. The two women sat across from him, saying nothing, but fixing him with unblinking stares.

By now, Wang Bo was well-versed in local custom, and knew how much importance was attached to the wedding night and its rituals. So he understood exactly what the two women wanted. With nowhere to hide his head, he could only stammer, “I was drunk last night, and feared to be rude to either of you... so...”

“Hmph!” Zhang Ning rolled her eyes in disbelief, then tugged on Zhen Jiang’s sleeve. The latter, also rolling her eyes, made Wang Bo’s heart race uncontrollably.

Sweating profusely under their gaze, Wang Bo hesitated for a long time, then finally steeled himself and spoke his true feelings: “I think Ning’er is still very young... and Jiang has only just arrived in Xinghan City, a stranger here...”

The next moment, Zhang Ning demanded fiercely, “Who’s too young?”

“This... well, there’s plenty of time ahead!” Startled by Zhang Ning’s assertiveness, Wang Bo blurted out some nonsense and fled the tent.

No matter what, Wang Bo’s lifelong concerns were finally resolved—and at once, he had married two beautiful wives, something he could only have dreamed of in his former life. Yet, looking at their still not fully matured figures and flower-like beauty, Wang Bo found himself unable to act, feeling that to do so would be akin to a beast, a desecration of something precious. Having had such experiences before, he was not as impatient as a young man.

After a heartfelt conversation, the two bashful women came to understand his intentions, no longer doubting his capabilities and feeling reassured.

After that, Wang Bo devoted all the resources of Xinghan City to the grand development of Yunzhong—building roads, digging canals, reinforcing defenses—drawing away almost all the officials trained and selected over the past months. Still, the pace of progress in Yunzhong outstripped the available manpower.

Fortunately, Wang Bo had established clear laws early on, so the retired soldiers pressed into service managed to get by, if roughly, and the recently conquered Xianbei people made no attempts at resistance. As they adapted, their improved living conditions diminished their will to rebel.

Yet, compared to Xinghan City’s immense needs, the talents recruited from Bingzhou were a drop in the ocean. The reason was simple: Xinghan’s production model differed from the rest of Han. In this era, such people were of low status, often forced by circumstance or bound by hereditary servitude, with neither ambition nor initiative.

[End of Chapter]