Power Up, Artist Yang!

The people cheered her name. Wu Yichen, Wu Yichen, Wu Yichen. Yujia heard the name sung along every step she took, with countless speaking of the hero of this battle. Wu Yichen, Wu Yichen, Wu Yichen. 

It was a bit odd to think about her relationship with this person. Hearing the name so much almost brought a sense of familiarity, as if it was the name of someone Yujia actually knew. In a way, Yujia supposed that she was closer to Wu Yichen than she would at first think. 

At the end of the day, she was, by blood, Wu Yichen's sister. 

But as the crowd continued singing their praise, Yujia was ever so conscious that as much as she was Yichen's sister, she was simultaneously not. Yichen was the sister of the Fourth Miss. And so, despite by blood, they were of course related, by spirit, they were anything but. 

When Yujia thought about it some more, there was also the fact that Wu Yichen no longer considered herself a part of the Yang Family. Then, certainly Yujia meant almost nothing as a sister, even if Yujia wasn't sure about the Fourth Miss and her relationship with the past Second Miss.

Her thoughts about Wu Yichen melted away when she saw Zixu. He was waiting outside his villa, standing in the blue winter cloak that she sewed him, as if he knew that she would come and find him. 

Yujia ran into his open arms. She buried her face into his shoulder. Leaning into his embrace, she said, her voice almost trembling, "I'm so glad you're safe."

"I am too," he replied, head sinking down, "though the rebels never broke into the capital walls."

"Still, every moment we spent in hiding— hearing the drums— knowing what was going on outside— I was so worried. So, so worried."

Zixu held her a little closer. "I know," he whispered, a hand reaching up to cup her head. "I know."

The time that Yujia had spent underground for safety weren't days passed easily. She was exhausted. Zixu was too; she could see the weariness in his expression. But now that she was outside, here with him, the exhaustion seemed to slip away. It was all over now. They were safe.

"What's happening?" Yujia asked.

Zixu, who held onto one of her hands, tilted his head, suggesting, "Shall we go see?"

Her hand in his, they wandered to the main street. Countless people had left their residences, all coming out to speculate. As Yujia followed the direction of the people's excited gaze, she saw who they all parted for. 

A train of soldiers— some carrying flags, others brandishing their spears and shields— marched down the road in a victory parade. At the front of the men, Yujia saw who she presumed to be a general of Xiang riding on a tall stallion. He seemed younger than the age of Yang Chen, the father of the Fourth Miss, by a little, presumably because of the lack of gray hairs that slipped out from under his helmet. His strong build contributed to his youthful appearance. But with his sun-speckled tan skin and the few wrinkles that ran along these dots, Yujia could tell that he was in his forties. 

Originally, Yujia was still uncertain of this general's identity. Yet seeing the person riding on her own horse only slightly behind him, she knew who he was. It had to be General Wu, for beside him was none other than Wu Yichen.

Though Yujia never met Wu Yichen nor knew what she looked like, with just one glance, she knew who this woman had to be. Who else could possibly lead these soldiers at the front like this? She was just as the people described her, sitting tall on a white horse, a red cape strung around her neck, silver plated armor covering the rest of her. There were stained bandages wrapped around her arm, but the injury seemed to be beneath her notice, as she didn't allow any signs of pain or discomfort to show.

Except, besides the obvious spot she led at giving away her identity, Yujia knew that she would recognize Wu Yichen anyways, even if the two of them were just brushing by each other across a busy street. After all, even if Wu Yichen no longer carried the surname of Yang, she still held the features of the family across her face. From the slope of her nose to her dark irises, they were features Yujia knew well, especially when these were the same parts that she saw in a mirror every day. 

As much as Wu Yichen looked like Yujia, she looked even more like Yang Xiaoyi, which Yujia found reasonable. The two sisters were full sisters, born from the same mother, so it made sense for the two to look more alike, whether it was the shape of their lips or the curve of their cheeks. Except, with Xiaoyi being the pampered Fifth Miss, and Yichen being a lieutenant on the battlefield, the differences between the two were as clear as day as well. War had hardened Wu Yichen, giving her a more lean and thin face, along with a more muscular, tall figure. She was nothing like Xiaoyi's frail and delicate self. 

Still, even with blood splattered across her armor, hair tied up in a messily streaked ponytail, Yujia felt that Wu Yichen was beautiful. It was a different type of beauty than that of the young ladies of society, a different type than the era's traditional femininity. It was beauty more raw, simplistic, and unapologetically there. Wu Yichen didn't hide the truth that she was a woman, with her armor fashioned in a different way from the other male soldiers, with crimson ribbons stranded through her hair. She wore her identity with pride, letting it sit openly there.

It was as if Wu Yichen was sending a message, one that showed that yes: men and women were different. But a distinction didn't make one weaker than another. It didn't set the standards that strength could only stand on one side. Wu Yichen was powerful, yet simultaneously, she could embrace her femininity all the same. 

With the confidence that Wu Yichen wore as plainly as her armor, Yujia could understand why the crowds cheered for Yichen. Wu Yichen embodied heroism. In the eyes of the people, that was who she was: a valiant hero.

Yujia stood amongst the roaring crowd, a row of people in front of both her and Zixu. She didn't expect Wu Yichen to notice her, not when she was just another civilian. But just as Yichen scanned her eyes across the crowd, her gaze met with Yujia's, snapping Yujia out of her trance of observation. For some reason, Yujia did not tear her gaze away, looking back into Yichen's eyes. 

Similar to how Yujia recognized Yichen the moment she saw this "half-sister" of hers, Yichen recognized Yujia as well. Yichen's eyes glanced over at the people next to Yujia, then raised her eyebrow ever-so-slightly, curiosity in her gaze. Yujia understood almost immediately. To Yichen, who was utterly unaware of anything happening in the Yang Family, seeing the sickly Fourth Miss out amidst a crowd, no servants or other family in sight, must've been a strange thing.

At this understanding, Yujia then curled her lips into a grin. The two were so far apart, with one amidst a crowd and another atop a tall horse, but when Yichen saw the smile on Yujia's face, she smiled too, directing her gaze back towards the front. Yujia wasn't sure what exactly went on in Wu Yichen's mind, but this lieutenant's amusement was clear.

By her side, Zixu nudged Yujia with his elbow. He must've seen this silent exchange between the two. "Are you related to her?" 

Yujia let out a breath that seemed like a laugh.. "I suppose she was once my sister," she acknowledged.