The meal was unremarkable.
The broth was thin, the grain coarse, the meat rationed and passed hand to hand. Soldiers ate where they could. On crates, against wagon wheels, squatting in the dirt with helmets set aside but never far. It was the quiet that followed movement, the kind earned rather than given.
Liang Wei ate steadily, neither rushed nor lingering. She kept her eyes on her bowl, her posture easy, her spear laid close enough to touch without looking. She took up no more space than necessary.
She had learned early that invisibility was not about shrinking. It was about moving in rhythm with everyone else.
It did not work.
"You're the one from earlier."
The voice came from her left. She finished chewing before answering. "Yes?"
The soldier grinned, young but weathered, armor scuffed in places that spoke of use rather than neglect. "By the wagons. With Lì Běichén."
A few nearby heads turned.
Liang Wei lifted her bowl and drank the last of the broth before answering. "If you say so."
The grin widened. "You dropped him clean. Didn't think anyone would manage that without embarrassing themselves."
She shrugged once. "He asked."
"That's just it," the soldier said, lowering his voice as if sharing something important. "He doesn't ask."
That earned her attention. She glanced over properly now, expression neutral.
"He used to command the Black Tortoise Vanguard," the soldier continued, clearly enjoying himself. "Zhao's old spearhead unit, back when things were uglier. They say he never lost a position. Never broke a line."
Someone else leaned closer. "He was captain under the commander himself."
"Under Zhao?"
The first nodded. "Before Tang Yaojun took over most of the forward operations."
The name slid into the space between them.
Liang Wei felt it register before she decided how to react. A tightening, brief and unwelcome, just beneath the ribs. Like recognizing a sound before remembering where you'd heard it.
She kept her face still.
"Funny thing," the soldier added. "You know who vouched for his return?"
She did not ask.
"Tang Yaojun himself."
"Now he's back," another muttered.
"Which means someone decided peace was no longer useful."
There was laughter, low and speculative.
Liang Wei said nothing. She wiped her fingers clean, stood when the others did, and collected her things. Whatever else might be said, it would not be said to her face.
The order found her less than an hour later.
It came from a junior officer, delivered carefully, with just enough formality to signal that the words were not his. "Liang Wei," he said, glancing at the parchment. "Effective immediately, you are reassigned as Suìshì."
She blinked once. "To whom."
The officer hesitated. "Lì Běichén."
The world did not tilt. It did not blur. It narrowed. "I see," Liang Wei said.
The officer looked relieved at the lack of protest. "You're to report to the Dūdū if you have questions."
She inclined her head. "I do."
The central tent received her without delay. Commander Zhao was alone this time, bent over a map, sleeves rolled just enough to show old scars at the wrist. He did not look up immediately when she entered.
She entered, halted at regulation distance and went down on one knee.
"I came to thank you," Liang Wei said instead.
That got his attention. He straightened and faced her fully. "For?"
"For the honor," she replied evenly. "Of being assigned as an attending follower."
His gaze sharpened. "You object."
"I do not object," she said. "I clarify."
"Clarify what."
"That I do not take studentship," Liang Wei said. "Nor do I serve as one."
"Stand," Zhao said. She did not move. A pause.
Zhao studied her in silence, fingers resting on the table's edge. "Suìshì is not a disciple role."
"It is proximity," she replied. "Instruction follows proximity."
"And you fear instruction."
"No," she said. "I refuse it."
Something like amusement flickered in his eyes. "You already have a master."
Had. She did not correct him.
"Lì Běichén is not taking you on," Zhao continued. "He is being given someone observant. Disciplined. Difficult to provoke."
"Is that what I am," Liang Wei asked, "or what he needs."
"Both," Zhao said. "And neither will like the arrangement."
She inclined her head slightly still kneeling. "Then I thank you for your confidence."
At that, Zhao exhaled. "Go."
She rose only after the dismissal was clear, saluted once, and turned without another word.
Outside, the camp resumed its ordinary noise. Orders carried. Wheels creaked. Somewhere, soldiers laughed. Liang Wei walked until the press thinned and her thoughts had room to sharpen.
Tang Yaojun.
The name surfaced again, uninvited. She did not know who he was. She did not know why the sound of it unsettled her. But she knew better than to ignore instincts that arrived unannounced.
Being placed near Lì Běichén was no coincidence. Being placed where she could be observed even less so. She adjusted her grip on the spear and kept moving. Whatever had begun shifting, she was already standing in its path.