The battlefield was still.
Pei Shu stood in the center of it, wearing dark purple brocade that somehow remained immaculate despite the dust and blood staining the ground around him. His cold gaze swept over the field—bodies being carried away, weapons collected, fires smothered. The metallic smell of blood mixed with the smoke and the distant scent of rain.
He turned and handed his sword to his right-hand man, Lang, who accepted it with a slight bow.
Lang sighed, then passed the sword to a nearby soldier. He followed his young master into the command tent.
Inside, Pei Shu had already settled into his seat—leaned back, eyes closed, one hand resting lazily on the armrest. The tent was dim, lit by a single oil lamp that cast long shadows across the canvas walls.
Lang rubbed his brow. "Can't you take this a bit more seriously?"
Pei Shu opened one eye. "What do you want me to do?"
Lang did a once-over of his general. "At least try to pretend you care. Sit up straight. Like a normal general."
Pei Shu chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Fine."
He sat up—but his posture was still relaxed, still careless. He sighed. "How many attacks has it been so far?"
Lang paused, mentally counting. "Seven in three months. The border is getting more and more restless."
Pei Shu nodded. "The Xeng army has attacked the southern border three times on their own. Adding known attacks from the north, that's seven total."
"Old General's men?" Lang asked.
Pei Shu yawned. "Not necessarily."
Lang frowned. "Shen Yao?"
Pei Shu smirked. "Of course."
Lang shook his head. "So your little whimsical dream came true."
Pei Shu turned to him, his eyes hardening—just slightly. "It wasn't a dream. It was expected. All he needed was time to figure it out."
Lang studied his master's face for a long moment. Then he sighed. "I suppose you're right." He glanced at Pei Shu again, his eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me you're spying on him."
Pei Shu choked. "Me?"
Lang reached over and smacked the back of his head. "You better stop all your nonsense. We don't need unnecessary enemies because of your thrill-seeking."
Pei Shu rubbed his head, but his smirk stayed in place. "He's interesting. That's all."
Lang glanced at him in disgust. "Says the certified stalker."
Pei Shu glared. "You know I can demote you, right?"
Lang shrugged it off. "You know the saying: to deal with shameless people, you have to be shameless yourself."
Pei Shu locked eyes with him. Then he stood up.
"I have to go."
He stretched—lazily, as if he hadn't just been overseeing a battlefield cleanup.
Lang didn't look surprised. "What's the reason for dumping all your duties on me this time?"
Pei Shu smiled, as if he had been waiting for the question. He pulled a letter from his sleeve and handed it over.
"The eldest princess is hosting a banquet in a few days. To get there in time, I need to leave fast."
Lang took the letter and glanced at it, then at Pei Shu. "Not like I expected you to stay here long enough anyway." He stepped forward. "Watch out for the Pei family."
Pei Shu paused mid-step. He glanced over his shoulder—his smirk faded for just a moment. Then he stepped into the shadows and was gone.
The tent felt emptier without him.
Lang stood alone, the letter still in his hand. He sighed, shook his head, and walked toward the desk. There was work to do.