Rising Phoenix

Helian Zheng immediately hollered: “Stop the carriages! Stop!”

The drivers all immediately pulled up, and curious eyes turned as Helian Zheng rode back down the line. Medora gripped the shaft, clinging to it with miserable strength. When Helian Zheng came into view, she looked up and cried out: “A-Ja… even if you don’t want me… my corpse will still follow you…”

Helian Zheng pulled up at the unexpected words, freezing in the bright daylight.

“A-Ja, what are you afraid of? How could I compete against your Queen? When I am like this?” Medora smirked sadly. “I know you protect her, and even though I’m like this you still protect her, but since you believe in her no matter what, take me with you. Ask her, ask your pure ice Queen whether my words have wronged her?”

Helian Zheng stared silently, his solid expression showing hints of cracks.

Medora clung to the carriage shaft and stared up at Helian Zheng with teary eyes as she continued gently: “A-Ja, my A-Ja… you were always so strong, when you were two… while I held you hiding in the haystacks, you never cried, and you even said, Sister Medora, we don’t need to be afraid, don’t be afraid… you were so small, but when I held you, you stopped shaking. If you weren’t afraid, why should I be? Your Uncle’s spear stabbed into the haystack and cut your palm, but you never moved, so why should I be afraid? It was just an icy lake… nothing much… A-Ja look… even like this I haven’t died… my A-Ja… in this world I have nothing, I only live… for you, and I die also for you…”

“Enough!”

Helian Zheng roared, the sudden shock from his word stilling Medora’s tongue, her teary eyes suddenly filled with fear.

Helian Zheng turned away from her as he paced angrily. Medora sobbed quietly, her bloody feet trailing behind her, the object of many a piteous look.

Helian Zheng had brought only Irgi Warriors; all of them knew Medora, and all of them had been varyingly discontent with her old arrogance, but who among them could be unmoved by a woman in such distress. In their view, with so many guards in the train and Medora clearly miserable and weak, why not bring her along? They were just delivering provisions.

“King…” Four of Helian Zheng’s Eight Valiants stepped forward; Big Roc spoke to plea for mercy, while San Sun was confident that his righteous and virtuous King would not force Medora away — he must respect her for saving his life and taking care of him in his youth even if she were not in such a tragic state.

And so San Sun stepped forward and helped Medora to her feet while Helian Zheng paced silently, ignoring them.

Medora’s tears stilled and she glanced quietly at Helian Zheng’s back. When he made no move to stop them, the hint of a smile flickered over the corner of her lips, and she followed San Sun and a maid as they helped her into a carriage.

Helian Zheng still did not react, and all of the guards let out a breath of relief, happily returning to their pasts.

When Medora was firmly seated in her carriage, Helian Zheng leapt atop his horse once more and called to Big Roc, the most experienced driver among his Eight Valiants. “Take care of Medora’s carriage.”

Big Roc nodded respectfully and climbed atop the carriage while Helian Zheng shut the carriage door — it was a vehicle for transporting grain and had only the single door and no windows. To protect the grain inside from any mishap while they traveled, the door was sealed with a large metal bolt.

So Helian Zheng shut the door, swiftly locked it in place with the bolt, and then lifted his horsewhip and slapped the horses driving it.

The horse neighed in alarm and began galloping forward; Medora cried out in shock, and Big Roc stirred with some surprise as Helian Zheng called out: “Watch the carriage, send her to King’s Court!”

Big Roc hurriedly brought the horses under control, working hard to calm them and stabilize the carriage. Medora’s loud tears and cries filled the air alongside the pounding on the door, a tattoo cutting the hearts of all the gathered guards and drivers. Helian Zheng quickly turned away, his fists tight and his eyes closed.

All his men had stopped in their astonishment, and no one dared break the dazed moment. They all just watched as Da Peng barely managed to stop the carriage from overturning, finally relaxing even as their hearts still clenched at the dull thuds on the carriage door.

“King!” The straightforward steppe men called out in disapproval.

How could their King be so biased! So cruel! Was this their righteous, kind King who was always so clear on the debts of love and hate?

“The squad of twenty, protect her.” Helian Zheng called out weakly, and though he heard and saw the discontent of his men, he could only bring himself to gesture wearily as he rode forward.

The guards all stared at him as if at a stranger and nobody moved. San Sun stared blankly after the carriage rolling away, and he had to shake himself from his daze, stamping his feet and slapping a nearby guard with his whip.

“The King ordered you to move, so move!”

Twenty guards kicked their horses and chased after Big Roc. Everyone else exchanged quiet glances with no trace of their previous cheer and laughter.

San Sun focused on moving the train’s teams, ignoring everything else. Helian Zheng rode along silently.

He was not stupid, and he clearly felt his men’s disappointment. They had worshipped him as a god, and with a decision of what they saw as causeless cruelty, they felt like their god had fallen from the heavens.

An idol can only be built over long years of steady respect, but ruin and destruction needed only a moment.

Men of the steppes did not understand conniving and cost benefits or the greater good; they only thought in honor oaths and tribal compassion.

Helian Zheng had never experienced such hostility and dissatisfaction from his people, and only now did he understand the difficult burden.

He lifted his eyes to the heavens and sighed. Dense clouds floated above like ten thousand galloping horses, and for a moment Helian Zheng felt as if he saw in the skies the black armored, blue robed Shunyi Steel Battalion, bright sabres in hand as they charged across the bloody battlefields of the northern border. In the lead, a youth in black armor, a graceful and confident smile on her face.

Zhiwei.

I cannot bring to you even a hint of danger, no matter the fading likelihood, I cannot.

Even if I must suffer the condemnation of thousands.

I can bear it!