The day they returned to the Capital City, only half the city gate was open.
It was not to welcome them—it was to hold back the commoners piled up outside the gate. News had reached the Capital City four days earlier: the Duke Who Stabilized the Nation had won a great victory on his western campaign, pulling out the nail driven deep into the Western Wasteland in one stroke; he had slain the ancient ferocious beast atop Shadow Tower, annihilated the Shadow Council, and recovered all the lost lands of the Western Wasteland.
From the western city gate all the way to the Ironblood Horse Grounds, the hoofbeats of the Demon Suppression Army's cavalry were smothered beneath the clamor hemming the streets on both sides. Vegetable sellers abandoned their baskets to squeeze into the front rows. Tavern attendants simply flung the rags from their shoulders and sprawled over window frames. Even the blacksmith shops stopped their hammers—sweat-soaked smiths snatched up towels to wipe their faces before rushing outside, leaving the furnace fires unsealed.
Yun Qingyue rode alongside them, her horse's hooves crushing osmanthus branches someone had tossed into the cracks between the paving stones. She edged her horse closer to Lu Chen's and lowered her voice. "There's a bloodstain on your collar. Did the wound on your right shoulder split open again?"
"It's not blood. I spilled medicine while drinking it last night."
"The medicine you drank last night was pale gold. If you spilled it, the stain would be pale gold." She reached out and tugged his collar down an inch, exposing the edge of his bandage. There was no seepage of blood. Once she had confirmed it, she released him and continued riding.
Behind them, Tuoba Shan rested five blades across his knees. The journey back from the