The battlefield was eerily silent, save for the howling wind.
Several dozen yards away, the rebel soldiers, still reorganizing their formations, paused briefly. Several young officers on horseback glanced back with varying expressions, awaiting orders from the central army.
Fan Changyu sat tall on her horse, her gaze steady and her grip firm on the long blade, showing no trace of fear.
For some unknown reason, no response came from the enemy camp in the distance.
Fan Changyu frowned. After Shi Yue and Shi Hu had died at First Line Gorge and Changxin Wang was executed in Chongzhou, the rebel forces had lost many of their top generals. Now, Sui Yuanhuai had almost no capable commanders left under him.
Her desperate strategy was meant to buy time.
If Sui Yuanhuai saw through her plan and refused to lose any more of his remaining officers, ordering a full assault instead, she and the dozen or so soldiers behind her wouldn’t last long.
After a brief consideration, Fan Changyu devised a plan. Pointing her blade forward, she shouted, "Listen well, you rebels! Changxin Wang has already fallen to my blade, and Sui Yuanqing was captured in Kangcheng. The man you follow is nothing but a coward who can’t even lift a sword—let alone name a single brave warrior to fight for him! What makes you think he can lead you to the capital and grant you riches? If you abandon this doomed cause now, all will be forgiven!"
Her words caused a visible stir among the rebel ranks.
Deputy General He and the others on the city walls, realizing Fan Changyu’s intent, joined in the taunting: "Sui Yuanhuai is a coward! He fled like a stray dog from Chongzhou to Lucheng, with no one left to fight for him. He’s just using you as cannon fodder to clear his escape route south!"
"The Sui family’s fate is sealed! At least Sui Yuanqing was a fierce warrior—who doesn’t know Sui Yuanhuai is just a sickly man clinging to life? Following him is suicide!"
The unrest among the rebels grew louder.
A scout hurried back to report the situation to the rear formation. Trembling, he relayed the news, only for a cold scoff to come from the carriage surrounded by elite guards: "Meng Changyu?"
The voice inside was icy, like a chilling wind through a dark forest, sending shivers down one’s spine.
He chuckled lowly. "What a masterful attempt at sowing discord and demoralizing the troops. Sui Ping, take some men and capture that Meng remnant alive."
The burly general outside the carriage immediately clasped his fists. "At your command!"
But the strategist, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, protested, "Young Master, no! You mustn’t!"
He laid out the risks: "That female general is clearly baiting us. Right now, General Sui Ping is the only capable commander left in our army. If anything happens to him, even if we take Lucheng, how will we defend against Tang Peiyi and Wu'an Marquis when they arrive? We should focus on storming the city—pile up corpses if we must, but take the walls first!"
A pale, slender hand adorned with a white jade ring lifted the carriage curtain. The lack of sunlight from years of illness made the veins and tendons starkly visible beneath the skin.
A nearby scout caught a glimpse and shuddered, quickly lowering his head.
Rumors had long circulated in the army—the young master was plagued by chronic illness, his temperament cruel and unpredictable, and those who served him closely often met sudden, violent ends.The carriage curtain was fully drawn back, revealing Sui Yuanhuai with a cloak draped over his shoulders. His pallid face bore obvious signs of illness, yet a faint smile played at the corners of his lips, exuding an air of gloomy malevolence.
He spoke unhurriedly, "The military advisor has toiled hard, but after suffering consecutive defeats, the army's morale must be restored. That female general killed my father—this vengeance unavenged, I would be ashamed to face him in the afterlife."
The military advisor still hesitated, "But—"
Sui Yuanhuai raised a hand to silence him. Though his eyelids lifted slightly, revealing the gaze of a man long afflicted by illness, the advisor felt an inexplicable pressure the moment their eyes met. He quickly averted his gaze, silently reassessing the rumors that the eldest son was merely a useless invalid sustained by medicine.
Noting the advisor's reaction, Sui Yuanhuai's lips curled slightly. "The army will set out at midnight. Even if Tang Peiyi notices something amiss after attacking Pochong City and gives chase, it will take him at least half a day to reach us. The Wu'an Marquis is entrenched in Kang City and won't arrive in time to aid them. What fear is there of a mere woman? Let’s not give those imperial lapdogs on the city walls a reason to laugh."
The advisor had only wanted to capture Lu City swiftly to avoid complications, but Sui Yuanhuai's words eased his concerns. With a bow, he retreated.
Watching the advisor leave, Sui Yuanhuai tapped the carriage window with his knuckles before instructing his personal guards, "Go and assist. Ensure the Meng woman is taken alive—kill everyone else."
Half the elite fighters surrounding the carriage vanished instantly.
Lan Shi, Zhao Xun's mother, cautiously glanced at Sui Yuanhuai and ventured, "Does Your Highness intend to use the Meng woman to expose Wei Yan's role in the Jinzhou Massacre?"
Sui Yuanhuai regarded her with a half-lidded, mocking gaze, remaining silent.
Lan Shi grew uneasy. Since Yu Bao'er's return, Sui Yuanhuai's wariness toward her and her son had deepened. She understood his suspicions—she had never harbored disloyalty all these years. But for those of imperial blood, once doubt took root, it festered like a thorn.
With no further word from Zhao Xun, she feared Sui Yuanhuai's trust in them had dwindled further.
A pang of sorrow struck her—after all, she had watched him grow up. She lowered her head. "This old servant spoke out of turn."
Suddenly, Sui Yuanhuai's hostility melted away, replaced by a gentle demeanor as he poured tea for her. "Aunt Lan, you’ve grown distant from me. Wei Yan is cunning. Even if the Meng woman accuses him, she wasn’t born seventeen years ago, and the sole evidence has already returned to his hands. He has countless ways to refute it. I’m merely puzzled—why would you think I’d use her to topple Wei Yan?"
In this gentler state, he bore a striking resemblance to the late Chengde Crown Prince.
Lan Shi's sadness faded. "Then why does Your Highness order her capture alive?"
Sui Yuanhuai smirked. "That usurping fool sought to win over the Wu'an Marquis by arranging a marriage, yet the Marquis sliced off the eunuch messenger's ear in defiance. Though the palace suppressed the news, walls have ears. Tell me, Aunt Lan—for whom did the Wu'an Marquis refuse the imperial marriage to the princess?"
Understanding dawned on her. "Your Highness means to use the woman to control the Wu'an Marquis?"She hesitated and said, "But... since she is a descendant of Meng Shuyuan, even if Meng Shuyuan was manipulated back then, her biological father was Wei Yan's man. It's likely she is also implicated in the Jinzhou case. With such a blood feud between them, would the Wu'an Marquis still care about her life or death?"
Sui Yuanhuai merely smiled. "The stage is set. Now we just watch the play."
Lan Shi pondered the meaning behind his words, but Sui Yuanhuai said no more.
Since Zhao Xun's disappearance, he had indeed grown more wary of this mother and son pair. This joint scheme with the Li family to frame Wei Yan was also kept hidden from Lan Shi.
After the fire in the Eastern Palace, he had stopped trusting anyone completely.
At that moment, a commotion arose from a carriage behind them. Sui Yuanhuai frowned impatiently. "What's going on?"
Before the Shadow Guard outside the carriage could investigate, a servant hurried over to report, "Master, the young master has fallen ill."
A flash of disgust crossed Sui Yuanhuai's eyes as he replied coldly, "If he's ill, summon the Army Doctor. What's all the noise for?"
The servant answered in a hushed voice, "It's... Consort Yu insists on seeing you, Master."
Sui Yuanhuai twisted the ring on his finger without a word. The messenger kept his head slightly bowed, but in those brief moments, he felt as though needles were pricking his back, cold sweat trickling down.
Lan Shi also found it odd. That Consort Yu had always avoided His Highness at all costs—why would she suddenly seek an audience today?
She glanced at Sui Yuanhuai, considering that with the armies about to clash, His Highness likely had no time to spare for the woman. So she replied on his behalf, "The siege is imminent, and the Eldest Young Master is occupied with pressing matters. I'll accompany you to check on the young master."
Yet the moment she finished speaking, Sui Yuanhuai said, "I'll go see him myself."
The usual cold smirk played on his lips, but there was an added glint of unspoken amusement in his eyes, as though he were in a good mood.
Lan Shi frowned. His Highness's behavior regarding Consort Yu was far too erratic.
Sui Yuanhuai stepped down from the carriage with the support of his most trusted Shadow Guard and strode unhurriedly toward the rear carriage.
By the time he reached it, a servant had already lifted the curtain. Stepping onto the coachman's back to board, he saw the woman sitting as close to the corner as possible. The coldness in his smile deepened.
His gaze swept over Yu Bao'er, who lay with eyes tightly shut against her lap, his small body trembling slightly. With a mocking tone, he asked, "Wasn't it said that this little beast was ill?"
Yu Qianqian met his eyes calmly. "Bao'er isn't ill. I wanted to see you."
The curve of Sui Yuanhuai's lips stiffened for an instant. He raised his gaze, reassessing the woman before him.
She wanted to see him? That was nothing short of a joke.
She never sought him out unless she needed something.
A shadow of malice flickered in his eyes as he sneered, "Need a favor?"
Yu Bao'er could no longer pretend to sleep, clutching Yu Qianqian's sleeve tightly.
Yu Qianqian gave his little hand a reassuring squeeze and held Sui Yuanhuai's gaze steadily.
The short bangs that once framed her forehead had grown out over the past months, now swept up to reveal a smooth, unblemished brow. Her face seemed even more radiant, dignified yet gentle.
She said, "The female general leading the charge was once an acquaintance of mine. Why must women suffer for the conflicts of men? Spare her life."She was unaware that Sui Yuanhuai had already issued orders to capture Fan Changyu alive. In the entire northwest, there was only one renowned female general. When Yu Qianqian heard the female challenger identify herself as Meng Changyu, she immediately guessed it was Fan Changyu.
Sui Yuanhuai commanded an army of twenty thousand. How could the remaining two thousand battered soldiers in Lu City possibly withstand such a force?
Unable to save more people, she only hoped to secure a favor from Sui Yuanhuai—to ensure Fan Changyu's survival at all costs.
Upon hearing this, Sui Yuanhuai let out two cold laughs. "You can hardly protect yourself, yet you’re sympathizing with stray cats and dogs outside?"
Yu Qianqian pressed her full lips together and said, "That’s why I’m begging you."
His pale, icy fingers suddenly gripped her chin without warning. Forced to look up, Yu Qianqian met Sui Yuanhuai’s dark eyes and instantly felt as though she were ensnared by a venomous serpent—damp, cold, and suffocating. Her body stiffened.
Standing barely half a foot away, Sui Yuanhuai looked down at her with disdain. "Is this how you beg?"
Years of consuming medicine had left him with a bitter herbal scent. Being this close, Yu Qianqian inhaled nothing but that odor.
The cool touch of his fingers on her chin remained vivid.
Her delicate brows furrowed slightly as she gazed at the pale, brooding man before her. "How do you want me to beg?"
Sui Yuanhuai seemed taken aback by her calm retort. For a moment, his eyes flashed with a feral hatred. Ignoring Yu Bao'er’s presence in the carriage, he abruptly bent down and kissed her roughly.
A sharp pain shot through her lips. Coming to her senses, Yu Qianqian hurriedly covered Yu Bao'er’s eyes with her hand.
Fortunately, he soon pulled away. Wiping her lips, she saw blood—unsurprisingly—and winced at the sting.
Noticing the blood on her lips, the darkness in Sui Yuanhuai’s eyes lessened slightly. Half-lowering his gaze, he sneered, as if using mockery to mask some hidden emotion, and tossed out, "Come to my room tonight."
Even after he lifted the carriage curtain and left, Yu Qianqian remained silent.
Yu Bao'er’s large, dark eyes fixed on his frail yet resilient mother. "Mama..." he whispered, clutching her sleeve tightly, his lips pressed into a thin line.
He didn’t want her to go to that man alone.
Yu Qianqian pulled the child into her arms, gently patting his back. "Don’t be afraid. It’s nothing. If it means saving your Aunt Changyu, what does this matter?"
Yu Bao'er stayed silent.
Watching the fluttering carriage curtain, Yu Qianqian spoke softly, "Ning Niang is even younger than you. She’s already lost her parents. If she loses her elder sister too, what will become of her?"
A flicker of emotion finally surfaced in Yu Bao'er’s dark eyes.
Yu Qianqian stroked his head. "Just endure a little longer."
After several rounds of taunts on the battlefield, Fan Changyu finally saw a narrow path open in the distant enemy formation.
A burly general charged forward on horseback, brandishing a double-edged axe. "Enough of your arrogance! Let me deal with you!"
Accompanying him were over a dozen others, uniformly dressed yet unlike any military officers. At first glance, Fan Changyu’s right eyelid twitched uncontrollably.
An indescribable discomfort coiled around her.
The fully armored general roared and spurred his horse toward her. Shaking off her thoughts, Fan Changyu urged her own steed forward to meet him.The clash of the Horse-Cutting Sword against the double-edged axe sent sparks flying as both riders passed each other by several yards before wheeling their horses around for another strike.
In mere moments, Fan Changyu had already exchanged several blows with the enemy commander. The man had decent arm strength, but his moves were too rigid. If she truly wanted to kill him, she could have unhorsed him in under three strikes.
But her current goal was to buy time, so Changyu deliberately held back. The two of them traded blows, circling each other across the open battlefield for nearly half a lap without a clear victor.
After roughly a quarter of an hour, the dozen or so men watching from the opposing side realized she was stalling and charged forward in unison.
Changyu’s heart sank. She quickly knocked the enemy commander off his horse with the flat of her blade.
The approaching riders numbered exactly sixteen.
The sixteen elite soldiers behind Changyu assumed this would be a one-on-one fight and urged their horses forward.
But what followed was nearly a one-sided slaughter.
The sixteen opponents moved like phantoms. The Jizhou soldiers wielding spears and swords couldn’t even get close before their heads were lopped off by ruthless, precise strikes.
They were like executioners honed through years of practice—every swing of their blades was meant only to kill.
Using the reach advantage of her Horse-Cutting Sword, Changyu managed to save one soldier who was close to her. But in the next instant, the enemy’s blade twisted, slicing a long gash down her arm.
She quickly forced the attacker back with her sword, creating a safe distance.
Her heart pounded violently, her palms slick with cold sweat, making it hard to grip the hilt firmly.
Never before had death felt so close. These men weren’t ordinary fighters who knew fear or hesitation.
They were like killing machines—untiring, unfeeling.
All around her, her comrades fell one after another. Changyu once managed to land a strike on an enemy, nearly severing his entire arm, yet the man didn’t even cry out. Instead, he rolled along the length of her blade and slashed her across the waist.
Bracing herself on her sword with one hand, Changyu pressed the other against the bleeding wound on her abdomen, gritting her teeth as she faced the dozen men encircling her just a few yards away.
She had figured out their fighting style. Against the other soldiers, they aimed only for fatal blows.
But that last attacker had a clear chance to kill her—yet he deliberately struck her waist instead.
Suddenly, she understood. They wanted to capture her alive.
A bead of sweat dripped from her brow. Changyu unwound the cloth binding from her hand and tightly wrapped it around her abdomen to stem the bleeding.
The enemies seemed to think she was at her limit and didn’t press the attack just yet.
Up on the city wall, Xie Wu’s eyes burned with fury. He roared hoarsely, “Those aren’t soldiers—they’re trained Martial Assassins! Open the gates! Let me out to help the Commandant!”
Deputy General He watched in horror as the sixteen elite soldiers were cut down in moments. But opening the gates now would only invite the enemy to storm the city.
Grimacing in anguish, he said, “We can’t open the gates. Commandant Fan and those sixteen brave souls went out for the sake of Lu City’s people. If we open the gates now, what will become of the hundreds of thousands of civilians inside?”
Xie Wu stared down at Changyu, surrounded and outnumbered, then recalled her earlier instructions to him. He slammed a fist against the battlement in frustration.
Finally, as if reaching a decision, he suddenly looked up and barked, “Bring me a rope!”At the base of the city wall, Fan Changyu bandaged the wound on her abdomen and then pulled out a pair of deerskin bracers from her armor, fastening them onto her wrists.
She had originally intended to discard these vambraces, but when breaking camp to rush to Lu City, she had inexplicably tucked them into her robes.
Now, they proved to be of great help.
As she tightened her grip on the Horse-Cutting Sword once more, a Martial Assassin from the opposing side closed in like a ghost, his blade aiming for her waist. Fan Changyu swung her sword in a wide arc, forcing him back while slicing a wound across his abdomen.
The assassin landed and glanced at his injury, exchanging a look with his comrades before they suddenly launched a coordinated assault, all charging at Fan Changyu.
From atop the city wall, the defenders screamed in fury, "You sons of bitches! A dozen men ganging up on a woman—only the Sui family's lackeys would stoop so low!"
There were faint murmurs among the rebel ranks, but in the heat of battle, there was no room for distraction. The dozen or so Martial Assassins ignored the curses raining down from above, their killing techniques shifting fluidly.
Fan Changyu couldn’t tell whether the wetness on her face was blood or sweat. Her entire focus was locked onto the approaching blades.
Their martial arts were unlike any general she had faced on the battlefield before—vicious, cunning, unpredictable.
Fortunately, she had survived several assassination attempts with Xie Zheng in the past. Later, during their sparring sessions, she had been stunned by the eerie swiftness of his techniques and had learned a few moves from him.
With that foundation, and the fact that her attackers were deliberately trying to keep her alive, she managed to hold her own against the dozen for several more minutes.
Slash, hack, slice, flick, cleave—her Horse-Cutting Sword became a blur of motion.
The prolonged exertion left her arms burning with fatigue, blood soaking through her sleeves, yet she dared not stop.
Time seemed to slow—so much so that she could see every slight movement of the assassins’ arms, every shift of their blades. Her sword deflected each attack with precision. Even where her eyes couldn’t see, the disturbance in the air and the whistle of steel slicing through wind became vividly clear.
Back when she first trained in martial arts, her father had told her that once one mastered the basics, techniques had to move faster than the eye could follow.
But at higher levels, it was about returning to simplicity—no matter how fast the moves, true mastery meant being able to see every strike clearly.
She had always been stuck at that threshold, never fully grasping what her father meant about the eyes surpassing the blade. Yet now, in this moment, she broke through that bottleneck.
Blades that should have been impossible to evade were dodged again and again. She even countered, cutting down three of the assassins.
The remaining assassins were also wounded.
They were the most elite Martial Assassins under Sui Yuanhuai’s command, warriors who had never been outmatched even against Wei Yan’s top-ranked assassins. Yet today, sixteen against one, they were being held at bay by a single woman.
The lead assassin’s gaze sharpened as he reassessed Fan Changyu. His next strikes became noticeably fiercer.
She barely managed to parry a few moves before exhaustion overwhelmed her defenses. A blade slashed across her back.
Blood seeped from the corner of her tightly pressed lips. She could see every attack clearly, but her injuries and drained strength made her reactions sluggish.
The final strike clashed against the tip of her Horse-Cutting Sword, its force partially deflected before slicing into her right arm.With a sharp "clang," the descending blade was intercepted by Xie Wu, who had slid down from the city wall using a rope.
Knowing it was a death mission, nearly ten soldiers still volunteered to follow Xie Wu, descending by rope to lend their aid.
Fan Changyu was utterly exhausted, leaning on her long blade just to stay upright.
Seeing her so grievously wounded, Xie Wu's eyes reddened with urgency: "Commander, get out of here!"
Seven or eight soldiers followed Xie Wu, risking their lives to hold off the Martial Assassins, while the rest supported Fan Changyu, helping her retreat. "Commandant, there are ropes by the city tower. We'll take you back! Deputy General He said you've already bought the army over half an hour—that's enough. The rest of us will stake our lives defending the walls of Lu City... uh—"
The soldier supporting Changyu suddenly fell silent.
A long blade had pierced straight through his chest.
He stared at the bloodied tip protruding from his body, collapsing as he repeated the same words: "Commandant... go..."
Behind them, Xie Wu was the only one holding back the dozen Martial Assassins. Outnumbered, he was stabbed multiple times before collapsing in a pool of blood, kneeling with his back to Changyu, never to rise again.
Changyu could barely lift her sword anymore. At the sight, a crimson tide seemed to surge in her eyes, and a tiger-like roar of grief tore from her throat. Swinging her blade, she cleanly severed the head of the nearest Martial Assassin.
Another assassin, who had tried to kill the soldier still supporting her, was nearly bisected at the waist by her strike. Even as he collapsed, his body twitched violently, entrails and blood spilling onto the ground.
Such brutal dismemberment sent chills down the spines of even these battle-hardened assassins.
Changyu's blade dripped blood as she slowly raised her head. The whites of her eyes were entirely bloodshot, a terrifying crimson, her disheveled hair making her look like a demon clawing its way out of hell.
The assassins hesitated, too afraid to advance.
From the enemy ranks behind them, a voice suddenly shouted, "By the lord's command—storm the gates!"
The soldiers who had been resting and observing the battle now surged toward the city gates once more. Bolstered by their reinforcements, the assassins shaken by Changyu steadied themselves, preparing to strike again—when the ground beneath them trembled.
Fine grains of sand quivered as if a colossal beast were tearing through mountains and valleys, splitting the earth itself.
"Woo—"
At the first blast of the horn, the Jizhou troops on the walls were too stunned to react.
"Woo woo—"
When the piercing horn sounded again, the defenders erupted in ecstatic cries: "Reinforcements are here!"
The Chongzhou troops below the walls instinctively turned to look. In the distance, dust clouds billowed, but the thunderous gallop of approaching horses grew louder by the second.
Moments later, a scarlet banner—the Banner of Xie—emerged above the swirling dust.
"The Wu'an Marquis! The Wu'an Marquis has brought the Xie Family Army!"
The Jizhou troops on the walls were electrified. Deputy General He stammered in excitement, "Quick—open the gates! All troops inside, follow me out to slaughter the enemy!"
But the Chongzhou forces below faltered the moment they saw the Xie banner. Their once-orderly formation dissolved into chaos.
The soldier Changyu had saved knelt on the ground, weeping with joy, shouting at her, "Commandant! The Wu'an Marquis himself has come! We're saved!"
Changyu seemed not to hear. She had long since exhausted her strength; her limbs were numb and unresponsive. Leaning on her Horse-Cutting Sword, she slowly knelt before Xie Wu.
To her, both Xie Wu and Xie Qi were almost like family.
As she gazed at the bloodied young man before her, riddled with blades, her throat burned with unspeakable pain. Tears mingled with the blood on her face, and she couldn't even choke out the name "Xiao Wu."The surviving soldiers, after the initial elation of having narrowly escaped death, looked at the devastated battlefield and their fallen comrades, their expressions turning sorrowful.
Although the Chongzhou army numbered twenty thousand, several rounds of siege warfare had already worn down their morale. Seeing Xie Zheng personally leading troops to their aid, and with no commanding general of prestige left in their ranks, they were instantly terrified out of their wits. The Xie Family Army and Jizhou forces quickly captured them through coordinated attacks from within and without. Only a small contingent of elite troops managed to cover Sui Yuanhuai's escape in the chaos, pursued by capable officers under Xie Zheng's command.
When Xie Zheng entered the city with a group of light cavalry, Deputy General He led all the notable officers within the city to greet him.
Upon seeing Xie Zheng, the deputy general was nearly moved to tears: "Thank the Marquis for arriving in time! Had Lu City fallen, this humble general would have had no face to show the elders and fellow villagers of Lu City, nor would I have dared to face Lord He in the afterlife!"
Xie Zheng, still recovering from his injuries, wore only light armor. Having ridden hard all the way and then fought in battle, the whip wounds on his back had reopened, soaking his clothes with blood. But he was always one to endure pain, and aside from an unusual pallor, not a trace of discomfort showed on his face.
Only at Deputy General He's words did a ripple of emotion appear in his eyes: "Old General He... has passed?"
The deputy general wiped his tears and said, "He passed standing on the city walls."
It was rare for military men to meet a peaceful end.
After a moment of silence, Xie Zheng asked, "Has the memorial hall been set up? I wish to pay my respects to the old general."
Deputy General He looked ashamed. "We haven't had time yet. The rebels came too fiercely, and we simply couldn't attend to Lord He's funeral arrangements. If not for Commandant Fan and Colonel Zheng bringing three thousand cavalry to our aid, and Commandant Fan single-handedly holding off the rebel generals to buy time, Lu City might not have held until the Marquis arrived with reinforcements."
Xie Zheng suddenly looked up sharply: "The Swift Cavalry Commandant is here?"
Swift Cavalry Commandant was Fan Changyu's official title.
Deputy General He, puzzled by his strong reaction, answered, "Yes, yes. But Commandant Fan fought fiercely against over a dozen rebel generals and was severely wounded. She's currently with the army doctor—"
Before he could finish, the figure before him moved abruptly. His collar was seized as Xie Zheng, his expression icy and uncharacteristically agitated, demanded, "Where is the army doctor?"
Still shaken, Deputy General He pointed in a direction. His collar was suddenly released, and he could breathe again.
Before he could process what had happened, Xie Zheng was already striding away.
"What's gotten into the Marquis?" he wondered aloud. Then it struck him—before leaving the city, Fan Changyu had mentioned being a descendant of General Meng Shuyuan of Changshan. His heart skipped a beat.
Everyone knew that Grand General Xie Linshan and the Chengde Crown Prince had perished in Jinzhou due to Meng Shuyuan's delay in delivering provisions. Was the Marquis rushing to find Commandant Fan because he already knew her identity and sought to avenge his father?
Cold sweat broke out on Deputy General He's back. He hurried after Xie Zheng: "Marquis, please don't act rashly! Whatever Meng Shuyuan did, Commandant Fan is a loyal patriot who has served the country with utmost devotion!"
Fan Changyu lay in the infirmary, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Her eyes, still bloodshot from earlier, hadn't fully cleared yet, and everything looked slightly blurred, as if through a thin mist.
The army doctor said it would take several days of rest to recover.
Her wounds had already been dressed by the medics, the worst being the gash on her abdomen.
Having stayed awake all night and fought in two battles from dawn till now, Fan Changyu was utterly exhausted, yet sleep still eluded her.The deaths of He Jingyuan and the severe injuries to Xie Wu had dealt her heavy blows.
When she came down from the battlefield and saw Xie Wu with several knives embedded in his body, she thought he was already dead. The sight of him covered in blood made her afraid to even touch him.
Xie Wu and Xie Qi had followed her through thick and thin in the military camp for so long that she had long regarded these two young men as her own younger brothers.
If Xie Wu were to die, it would be no different from losing another family member to her.
Fortunately, the soldiers carrying Xie Wu noticed he still had a faint breath and quickly called the army doctor to treat his wounds on the spot.
Although he had been brought back now, the army doctor said his injuries were too severe—whether he would survive depended on how tough his fate was.
That word, "fate," weighed heavily on Fan Changyu's heart.
When the door opened, she thought it was the medic returning to urge her to take her medicine. Still staring blankly at the ceiling, she replied hoarsely, "Ahui, I can't eat anything. Don't worry about me—go tend to the other soldiers."
Ahui was the medic's name.
She truly couldn't stomach anything now. Not only medicine, but even a sip of water made her stomach convulse violently until she vomited up nothing but bile.
After she spoke, there was a long silence at the door, with no sound of footsteps leaving.
Fan Changyu seemed to sense something. Her expression shifted slightly as she turned her gaze toward the doorway.
Despite imagining this reunion many times, the moment she saw that tall figure, her heart clenched as if gripped by a large hand, aching dully.
Her vision was still blurry, but she could tell he had grown much thinner, as if he had been ill.
His frame, wrapped in black armor, was noticeably gaunter, and even his lips lacked color. He didn't look much better than she did, a patient fresh from the battlefield—only the sharpness in his brows and eyes was more pronounced than before.
Had he not been well since they parted?
Their eyes met, but neither spoke.
Fan Changyu wanted to exchange a few polite words, but remembering what he had said during their farewell and the emperor's decree of marriage between him and the princess, her heart ached with bitterness and an indescribable heaviness, making it even harder to speak.
"Marquis! Marquis! Please wait for this subordinate!"
In that moment, Deputy General He had hurriedly caught up. Seeing one lying on the bed and the other standing at the door, both silent, he found it strange but also breathed a sigh of relief.
Then it occurred to him—could it be that Fan Changyu didn't realize the man before her was the Wu'an Marquis?
Noticing Xie Zheng hadn't lashed out, he grew bolder and quickly signaled to Fan Changyu: "The Marquis cares deeply for his subordinates and has come personally to inspect the soldiers' injuries. Colonel Fan, why don't you greet the Marquis?"
So that's why, Fan Changyu thought. No wonder she had run into him here.
Suppressing all her emotions, she forced herself to sit up, curving her lips slightly as she clasped her fists in salute, her tone distant. "This humble officer, Fan Changyu, greets the Marquis."
He had said he would only regard her as a fellow disciple from now on.
In truth, if not for Grand Tutor Tao's connection, he probably wouldn't want anything to do with her anymore.
Now, with the truth still unclear and him already betrothed, Fan Changyu could no longer bring herself to ask him to believe in her grandfather and father.
Perhaps it was best to act as if they had never known each other, sparing both of them the awkwardness.
She thought this was the most prudent approach, but what followed her words was a dead silence.
You could hear a pin drop.The person standing at the door watched her quietly for a long moment before chuckling, "What did you just call me?"
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