Chapter Two: The Fifth Year of Supreme Peace

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The Fifth Year of Zhiping in the Great Song?
Was there ever a Fifth Year of Zhiping in the history of the Great Song dynasty?
Liu Yi couldn’t shake off a sense that something was wrong. Could this be an alternate timeline?
Just as he was about to press for more answers, the faint sound of horses’ hooves reached his ears. Although the cavalry was still some two or three miles away, Lady Jinhua instinctively tightened her grip on her silver spear, her expression turning tense.
Her voice was soft and fragile: “Young master, I beg you, help me. If you can escort me safely to Lake Chao, riches and ranks, gold and jewels—anything you desire will be yours!”
Now Liu Yi finally had the chance to observe Lady Jinhua closely.
She was as dazzlingly beautiful as ever. Though her face was slightly pale, Liu Yi could see a composed and resolute determination, a fierce courage that brooked no retreat.
She was in better shape than he had imagined. Moments earlier, Liu Yi had only seen blood gushing forth and thought Lady Jinhua had been grievously wounded. Now he realized that most of that blood was not hers at all.
Lady Jinhua was a seasoned warrior, one who had survived countless battles on the edge of life and death. She knew precisely how to protect herself in such desperate moments.
Though outnumbered and forced to trade wound for wound, her movements were impossibly agile; every lethal blow, after she had skillfully deflected its force, landed merely upon her armor, inflicting no mortal harm.
Now, not only had she already tended to several wounds, she was ready to leap back into the fray at any moment.
Liu Yi could not fathom how Lady Jinhua had accumulated such battle experience—she could not be more than thirty years old. Yet this very fact stirred in Liu Yi a powerful urge to protect her. “Lady Jinhua, entrust everything to me. Do as I say, and I swear I’ll see you safely to Lake Chao!”
Relief washed over Lady Jinhua. “Young master, let’s hide for now!”
No matter how well she and Liu Yi could fight, they stood no chance against a cavalry squadron. Lady Jinhua seized the dagger she had just recovered and prepared to flee up the mountain.
Though Liu Yi had said, “Do as I command,” Lady Jinhua, who had survived death more times than she cared to count, would not pin all her hopes on this stranger who had fallen from the sky.
Liu Yi, for his part, knew she would not trust him completely. In truth, he still hadn’t figured out what exactly was happening. Thankfully, before leaving home, he had packed his backpack with ample food and medicine.
He handed Lady Jinhua a box of chocolate, then fished out an ibuprofen tablet and an antibiotic, thought for a moment, and added another ibuprofen. “Eat first—then we move!”
Lady Jinhua had never seen such strange food before, but as the chocolate melted in her mouth, she felt a surge of strength from within. “Thank you, young master! Is this medicine for wounds? Thank you!”
Seeing that Lady Jinhua could move without difficulty, Liu Yi grabbed Old Zhang’s backpack and followed her up the mountain. “Lady Jinhua, right now in the Great Song, who is the Zhiping Emperor?”
Liu Yi doubted he would get a straight answer. After all, an emperor’s name was even more obscure than a reign title. Yet Lady Jinhua gave a reply that startled him: “His Majesty Xu Zhenyi, the Zhiping Emperor of the Great Song, wise and mighty, will surely restore order and revive the land!”
Liu Yi nearly stumbled in shock. “The Zhiping Emperor—Xu Shouhui?”

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He didn’t know whether the Great Song dynasty had ever had an era called “Zhiping,” but he did know that the “Great Song” Lady Jinhua spoke of was not the Song of the Zhao family, but the “Xu Song” of the late Yuan and early Ming.
This was an obscure bit of history. At the end of the Yuan dynasty, the rebel Xu Shouhui had adopted “Song” as his dynastic title and “Zhiping” as his era name. Later, Zhu Yuanzhang, to undermine the rival Xu Song regime, deliberately altered the records, changing their dynastic name to “Tianwan.”
Lady Jinhua had not expected Liu Yi to know the true name of Xu Shouhui. “How do you know the personal name of His Majesty, the Zhiping Emperor?”
Liu Yi did not wish to waste time on this question. “The fifth year of Zhiping—what year is that in Zhizheng era terms?”
“If you follow the usurpers’ calendar, it is now the fifteenth year of Zhizheng.”
The fifteenth year of Zhizheng? Liu Yi first felt a wave of relief, then tension.
He had once studied the history of the transition from Yuan to Ming and vaguely recalled that it was in the fifteenth year of Zhizheng that Zhu Yuanzhang crossed the Yangtze and began his rise to power. But that was a distant issue; more urgent matters pressed. “Lady Jinhua, why are these men in blue pursuing you?”
At this, Lady Jinhua’s expression hardened, but she spoke the truth.
Though young, Lady Jinhua was a true founding hero of the Xu Song regime. In the first year of Zhiping, she had led the White Lotus followers in rebellion at Xiangyang. Though defeated in the end, her disciples and former troops had since opened a new front in the Jianghuai region.
Lately, however, her followers had been beset by misfortune. Trapped in Lake Chao, they were at odds with each other, even on the verge of civil conflict. The Xu Song court pinned its hopes on Lady Jinhua to bring order and restore unity: “His Majesty sent me to Lake Chao to settle the mess, but somehow the news leaked. Too many people do not wish to see me succeed there. The journey has been fraught with peril!”
Liu Yi then asked a most sensitive question. “Lady Jinhua, what will you do if, upon reaching Lake Chao, your disciples and old followers refuse to obey your orders?”
A cold gleam flashed in Lady Jinhua’s eyes. “If they will not heed my command, then I will send them to listen to the teachings of Master Peng.”
The “Master Peng” she spoke of was Peng Yingyu, the true founder of Xu Shouhui’s regime.
Though this Red Turban leader suffered many setbacks during the uprising, he learned from each failure, rebuilt his forces, and remained selfless and upright. Thanks to his efforts, the Red Turbans had swept across the land.
But now, Peng Yingyu was a fallen star. Liu Yi knew well what it meant, to be “sent to listen to Master Peng’s teachings.”
Lady Jinhua, in turn, inquired into Liu Yi’s background. “By the way, may I have your esteemed name, young master?”
“My name is Liu Yi.”
Liu Yi?
At the sound of his name, Lady Jinhua felt a sudden, uncontrollable stirring in her heart.
She had never imagined a name could unsettle her so deeply.
Nor had she ever felt as hopeless as she did today.

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She had been through countless desperate battles over the years, but even when Xiangyang was besieged for months by a hundred thousand elite troops, when the city gates were sealed and supplies exhausted, and no rescue came from outside, Lady Jinhua had never felt such despair.
These pursuers not only wanted her dead, they knew her every move. From the moment she left home, she had fallen into their trap, forced into complete passivity, with hardly a chance to fight back. Had it not been for this young man’s miraculous intervention, she would now be nothing but a lost soul.
This could only mean there were those at court who did not wish her to take command of the Lake Chao fleet. It was, without a doubt, the most hopeless moment of her life: from the very start, she had been on the defensive, with virtually no escape. The pursuers knew her too well—none of her skills availed her.
And now, hearing the name Liu Yi, Lady Jinhua’s defenses finally crumbled.
Was this the very same bookish, oblivious Liu Yi of legend? Was she the dragon maiden in the story?
When Master Peng was alive, he had claimed she was the reincarnation of the dragon maiden, and had once said that, in her hour of peril, she would encounter Liu Yi the letter-bearer. At the time, Master Peng’s words had seemed a jest, but he had always been farsighted—could he have foreseen this day?
Lady Jinhua glanced at Liu Yi, whose clothes, manners, and speech were all so bizarre, her expression growing stern and commanding. “Master Liu, those who come are no friends. Ready your treasures. Let’s give them a fight to remember! Once we reach Lake Chao…”
Liu Yi was rummaging through Old Zhang’s backpack, but so far had found nothing of interest. “No rush,” he replied.
Just then, he found what he most wanted: he pulled out a pair of binoculars and handed them to Lady Jinhua. “Found it!”
“What is this?”
Lady Jinhua had never seen such a wondrous item, but once she tried the binoculars, she could not put them down.
If she had possessed such a device during the siege of Xiangyang, she could have held out another half month, at least. Now, her confidence in the Lake Chao mission was boosted by half. “The pursuers are closing in… let’s lead them on a little chase!”
She could feel the pills Liu Yi had given her working their magic.
In her experience, wounds like this should have left her hovering between life and death. Yet, though the pain was intense, it was still within her control, and even seemed to be slowly ebbing.
She had wandered far and wide, yet never encountered such miraculous medicine.
Was this Liu Yi truly the fabled messenger sent from the heavens?
But Lady Jinhua’s gaze turned steely. She could now hear not only hoofbeats, but also the urgent howls of fierce hunting dogs. The pursuers had come well-prepared. “Ni Manzi, you and I are enemies to the death!”