Shen Shen arrived with the Left Flank Battalion at this moment. Dismounting from his horse, he called out to Xie Zheng, "Jiuheng!"
Breathing slightly heavily, he took in the current situation with a grim expression. "The Divine Machine Battalion's firearms aren't at the Western Garden!"
His Left Flank Battalion had already suffered nearly half its losses after clashing with both the Divine Machine Battalion and the Right Flank Battalion sent by Grand Tutor Li. Now, rushing here to support Xie Zheng, they were truly staking their lives on this fight.
"I know."
Xie Zheng stood up, his gaze sweeping over the corpses and blood strewn across the ground before locking onto Wei Yan.
His expression at that moment was indescribable—cold, calm, and indifferent.
The sky had brightened, the howling north wind whipping up waves of snow. The rosy glow breaking through the clouds in the east cast a golden-red hue over half the imperial city. Standing there with his halberd, half his face splattered with blood and bathed in the golden light of dawn, he looked as majestic as a deity, yet exuded the ruthless aura of a demonic general.
Wei Yan met his gaze silently for a moment before shifting his attention to the Left Flank Battalion behind Xie Zheng. With the composure of one who held the upper hand, he asked coolly, "Do you think adding the Left Flank Battalion will turn the tide today?"
Xie Zheng lifted his head lazily, sneering. "Whether it does or not, we won’t know until we try."
He smiled faintly. "What I’m curious about is how the Prime Minister, who doesn’t even care for the life of his own son, is now fighting for the throne on behalf of which bastard?"
Wei Yan’s stern phoenix eyes instantly frosted over as he roared, "You insolent wretch!"
Xie Zheng’s smile, devoid of warmth, turned equally icy as he raised his halberd and pointed it straight at Wei Yan. "You have no right to lecture me!"
Wei Yan seemed thoroughly enraged by Xie Zheng’s words. Instead of immediately ordering his Martial Assassins to attack, he barked, "Bring me my blade!"
His subordinates quickly brought forth a guandao nearly eight chi long. The weapon was ancient in appearance, its blade and hilt adorned with darkened dragon engravings. At a glance, it seemed to exude an eerie black aura, striking fear into those who saw it.
A blade that required two soldiers to carry was lifted effortlessly with one hand by Wei Yan. His wide sleeves billowed in the wind, his imposing presence no less formidable than that of seasoned battlefield veterans.
In the distance, He Xiujun’s face twisted in shock as he watched Wei Yan single-handedly lift the guandao. He turned to Tang Peiyi. "Uncle Tang, Wei Yan knows martial arts?"
Tang Peiyi’s expression was complicated. "He must. In his early years, he was renowned alongside General Xie and once guarded the Northern Frontier. But by the time I enlisted, Lord He was already handling affairs independently under him. He took the civil official path, so I never heard much about his martial skills."
Back on the field, Wei Yan, now holding the guandao aloft, fixed Xie Zheng with a cold, solemn gaze. "Since I taught you, I can discipline you!"
Xie Zheng remained motionless as Wei Yan charged toward him, dragging the massive blade. Yet his eyes burned with a hatred so cold it was palpable. His grip on the halberd tightened, the blood from his torn palm staining the shaft crimson.
In the past, he had trained under Wei Sheng alongside Wei Xuan and newly selected Martial Assassins, receiving occasional guidance from Wei Yan.
In terms of martial arts, much of Xie Zheng’s later combat style had been influenced by Wei Yan. Wei Yan’s techniques emphasized lethality—every strike aimed to kill, with no wasted movements.
As the guandao came hurtling toward his vitals, Xie Zheng swung his halberd up with brutal force to meet it.Blades clashed against halberds, sending sparks flying as Wei Yan pivoted and swung his weapon backhanded, the edge biting into the shaft of the halberd. Xie Zheng's whip-like kick collided with Wei Yan's blocking elbow, sending a spray of snow scattering across the ground.
Their movements were so swift they became nearly indistinguishable to the naked eye.
The duel between the two was straightforward—a contest of speed and ruthlessness.
The personal guards of the Wei and Xie families stood on either side, watching the battle with bated breath.
When Xie Zheng's halberd nearly grazed Wei Yan's neck, Tang Peiyi slapped his thigh and roared, "Well struck! Slice that old traitor!"
Nearby, Fan Changyu, locked in combat with Wei Sheng, let out a fierce battle cry. Her blade, capable of cleaving gold and jade, swept horizontally with devastating force. Though Wei Sheng managed to block with one of his recovered golden maces, the sheer impact sent him stumbling back several steps, his palms torn and bleeding, leaving him in utter disarray.
Tang Peiyi felt the stagnant blood in his chest from earlier injuries loosen slightly, his excitement nearly making him cough up blood. He shouted, "Keep at him, Niece Changyu!" His personal guards grew alarmed as he choked, and He Xiujun quickly patted his back to help him recover.
The weight of Fan Changyu's Horse-Cutting Sword was no trifling matter. After that mighty swing, she barely had the strength for a second strike. Yet, spinning on her heel, she channeled her momentum into the blade and let out a piercing cry as she brought it crashing down once more.
Wei Sheng, ignoring his torn palms, raised his golden mace again to block—only for a sharp metallic crack to ring out.
The Horse-Cutting Sword split the reinforced mace clean in two. Had two of Wei Mansion's martial assassins not leaped forward, kneeling to intercept the blade's remaining force with their own weapons, Wei Sheng would have been cleaved in half by Fan Changyu's strike.
Breathing heavily, Fan Changyu leaned on her sword, momentarily spent.
Xie Shiyi and his men stood guard behind her, glaring at the two martial assassins opposite, ready to engage if they dared make another move.
Wei Sheng spat out a mouthful of blood as the assassins helped him up, his gaze fixed on Fan Changyu. "Wei Qilin's spawn?"
Shaking off their support, he wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand and said, "You're fiercer than your father. The Prime Minister should never have spared you and your sister."
The ferocity in Fan Changyu's eyes hadn't faded. She stared coldly at him and said, "Justice may be slow, but it never fails. Wei Yan owes my parents, my grandfather, and the tens of thousands of soldiers who died tragically in Jinzhou. He will pay."
The rising sun behind her cast blinding rays of light.
At the mention of Meng Shuyuan, Wei Sheng fell silent.
Meanwhile, after multiple exchanges, Wei Yan began to falter against Xie Zheng.
Age had caught up with him, and in a battle purely of stamina and endurance, his body could no longer keep up.
Xie Zheng, however, only grew more relentless. His halberd danced like a spear, striking left and right with dragon-like force, each thrust and parry carrying immense power, forcing Wei Yan into a desperate retreat as he struggled to defend.
Wei Mansion's martial assassins tried to intervene but found no opening to break through.
Xie Zheng's jaw clenched tightly, his hatred palpable, yet a cold, mocking smile twisted his lips. "A lesson? For whom? For my father, whom you murdered in Jinzhou? Or my mother, whom you drove to her death?"With the final accusatory question came a forceful throw.
Amidst the disheveled hair, whether from the cold wind or not, his eyes appeared slightly reddened.
The halberd embedded itself deep into the granite of the Meridian Gate square. Wei Yan rolled away in disarray, barely avoiding the lethal strike.
The Martial Assassins raised by Wei Mansion hurriedly helped Wei Yan up, retreating several steps while keeping a wary eye on Xie Zheng.
Choking on the cold air, supported by his trusted aides, Wei Yan coughed violently before lifting his gaze to Xie Zheng: "Brute courage—this old man can no longer match you in that. But if you think brute courage alone can decide tonight's outcome, you're a fool!"
As his words fell, crossbowmen on and below the city walls aimed their weapons at Xie Zheng's group. The Golden Guard even wheeled out several cannons onto the battlements.
Shen Shen's expression darkened as he immediately ordered the Left Flank Battalion archers to draw their bows. Yet, outnumbered as they were, it was a desperate last stand.
Wei Yan locked eyes with Xie Zheng from afar, his gaze steely yet tinged with weariness.
Tang Peiyi, half-lying on the ground, said to He Xiujun, "That old traitor—how he enrages me! Had we not been stationed at the frontier with little influence in the capital, he'd never dare spout such nonsense!"
He Xiujun coughed twice, sharing the sentiment of heroes at road's end. "General Shen is truly heroic," he remarked.
Knowing Wei Yan possessed the Divine Machine Battalion's firearms yet still leading remnant troops to their aid—such courage commanded deep respect.
Tang Peiyi declared, "If we die here today, what company we'll have on the road to the underworld! A merry fate indeed!"
Fan Changyu gazed at the dark cannon muzzles and countless glinting arrows on the walls, finding an unexpected calm within. She turned to Xie Zheng.
Dawn light mingled with firelight on his face, streaked with blood and soot—stern, unyielding, the most striking she'd ever seen him.
Upon realizing the Western Garden was Wei Yan's trap, she'd known what awaited her coming here.
She feared not death, only resented their impending defeat.
And... she was reluctant.
Elders said the dead must cross Naihe Bridge, drink Meng's soup of oblivion, and forget this life before rebirth.
As she moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Xie Zheng, she wordlessly pressed a blood-soaked object into his hand without turning.
Noticing, Xie Zheng tilted his head slightly, but Changyu didn't look back. Softly, she asked, "Xie Zheng, do you believe in next lives?"
"I don't believe in spirits," he answered, voice low and measured.
Still watching the opposing forces, she continued conversationally, "I didn't either. After losing my parents, I wanted to believe."
Pausing, she added almost inaudibly, "If rebirth exists... come find me."
Xie Zheng whipped his head around, staring at her with unreadable intensity.
The post-snow dawn sun offered little warmth. Morning wind carried gunpowder and frost, the silence broken only by the burning Yanchi Tower's crackling flames.
Amidst this stillness, hearts pounded loudly.
Abruptly, he said, "That old fox has no more tricks. Let's not waste time."Fan Changyu had yet to grasp the meaning behind his words when a signal flare shot into the sky from Xie Zheng's hand.
Everyone present was momentarily stunned by this sudden action.
Xie Zheng cast a cool glance at Wei Yan. "The Prime Minister sits high in the court, unmatched in wielding power, but when it comes to military strategy, you fall short."
The dull clatter of armor echoed from the distance, surging like a tidal wave.
Turning their heads, the crowd saw the Xie Family Army, bearing banners emblazoned with the character "Xie," flooding from the long streets outside the Meridian Gate toward the square below. The Golden Guards stationed atop the gate tower, with their elevated vantage point, took in the sight of the endless columns of troops stretching down the streets. Their faces instantly paled.
This was only the visible force—who knew how many more remained outside the city gates? A veritable sea of soldiers!
Shen Shen's worry turned to joy as he looked at Xie Zheng. "Jiuheng, you were prepared all along?"
Xie Zheng didn't answer, but an elegant man in embroidered white robes and a snow-white fox fur cloak emerged from the ranks, waving a feathered fan. His first words upon seeing Xie Zheng were, "I waited half the night for your signal. I thought you'd been wiped out in the city!"
Then, with a slight bow of his fan toward Shen Shen, he added, "Brother Shen, it's been many years."
Though disheveled, Shen Shen couldn't help but laugh. "Brother Gongsun!"
Xie Zheng gave Gongsun Yin a sidelong glance. "You were just eager to come in and watch the spectacle, weren't you?"
Unfazed by the retort, Gongsun Yin bowed to Fan Changyu. "General Fan."
Changyu was both shocked and delighted. "Gongsun? You were outside the city all along?"
Tang Peiyi and He Xiujun were equally astonished.
Tang Peiyi burst into laughter. "I knew our Marquis was a military genius! How could he ever suffer defeat at the hands of that old traitor Wei Yan?"
He shouted toward Wei Yan, "Old traitor! Order your men to surrender now!"
He Xiujun also smiled, though his injuries were more severe. The motion tugged at his internal wounds, forcing him to restrain his mirth.
Gongsun Yin nodded slightly at Fan Changyu, raising an eyebrow at the blood staining her face and clothes. "Seems like a fierce battle was fought in the city last night."
As the army continued to pour into the square like a tide, their lighthearted banter stood in stark contrast to the panic spreading among the Golden Guards and Five Armies Garrison soldiers on the gate tower. Though they still held their crossbows, their faces were filled with dread.
This wasn't just a matter of numerical disadvantage. These capital soldiers, trained only in suburban camps, faced the Xie Family Army—veterans who had shed barbarian blood on the northwestern battlefields. Without even engaging, the sheer killing intent radiating from the sea of troops below was enough to cow them.
The advisors following Wei Yan were equally despairing, yet Wei Yan remained composed, quietly watching Xie Zheng's back through the crowd.
Xie Zheng's expression was cold and resolute as he surveyed the eastern and western flank towers. His voice rang out, clear as shattered jade, echoing across the Meridian Gate square: "All soldiers who followed Li and Wei in rebellion, listen well! Those who lay down their arms and surrender will be treated leniently. Those who resist will be charged with treason!"
It was clear to all that Wei Yan's fate was sealed.
A Golden Guard dropped his saber. The metallic clang against the stone tiles was followed by a cascade of weapons hitting the ground—like beads slipping from a broken string, once the first fell, the rest could no longer hold on.In the blink of an eye, only the Martial Assassins raised by Wei Mansion remained loyal to Wei Yan in the Meridian Gate square.
Gongsun Yin gently fanned himself with a feathered fan and said, "Prime Minister, having long occupied a high position, you should understand best what it means to go with the flow. Given the current situation, do you still intend to struggle in desperation?"
Wei Yan looked at Xie Zheng, his eyes filled with complex emotions, but in the end, all he uttered was: "I underestimated you."
Xie Zheng met his gaze coldly without speaking.
As the surrounding troops tightened their encirclement around Wei Yan and his men, the Martial Assassins by his side drew their weapons, intending to fight their way out. However, Wei Yan calmly raised his hand to stop them.
Someone beside him called out, "Prime Minister!"
Wei Yan merely said, "This old man was outmaneuvered and lost the entire game."
When the armored guards escorted Wei Yan and the remaining members of his faction to the dungeons, the uncle and nephew passed so close they nearly brushed shoulders, yet neither spoke another word.
As one mountain collapses, another rises in its place.
The golden light of the rising sun bathed the imperial palace. Below, soldiers began tending to the wounded and clearing the battlefield. Wounded generals like Tang Peiyi and He Xiujun were carried to the nearby Imperial Hospital for treatment.
The bloodshed and chaos of the night seemed to fade in the hazy dawn, leaving only the scorched marks on the ground and buildings from the cannon fire—like scars marring the magnificent imperial city.
Xie Zheng stood silently amidst it all, his long lashes slightly lowered, lost in thought.
At the horizon, peaceful morning clouds drifted by, and the breeze brushing against them seemed gentler, stirring the loose strands of hair by Fan Changyu's ear. She turned to look at Xie Zheng and asked, "Can we consider this a victory?"
Xie Zheng gave a faint "Mm" in response, then lifted his gaze to the scarred yet towering palaces before him. His thick lashes were also dusted with the morning light, but his eyes remained deep and unfathomable.
Everything had been settled.
Gongsun Yin strolled over and asked, "What shall we do with Wei Yan?"
Xie Zheng replied, "Keep him imprisoned for now."
He had no desire to stay any longer. The exhaustion from a night of battle weighed heavily on him. Clasping Fan Changyu's hand tightly, he said to Gongsun Yin, "I leave the rest to you."
Gongsun Yin glanced at the bloodstains covering him and, uncharacteristically generous, agreed. "Fine, I'll handle things here. With all those injuries, you should hurry back and see a physician."
Xie Shiyi quickly fetched a carriage, and Xie Zheng pulled Fan Changyu inside. Most of those present had already dispersed, and few noticed them. Even those who did were under Xie Zheng's command and dared not comment or stare.
Fan Changyu sometimes seemed a step slow in her reactions. Even after boarding the carriage, she continued questioning, "Gongsun must have brought nearly twenty thousand troops. Yesterday, you said he could set out, but there's no way he could have reached the capital so quickly with such a large force in just one day. He must have been stationed near the capital all along. Was this the matter you said you couldn't tell me about before?"
Xie Shiyi drove the carriage swiftly, and as it jolted, the curtain swayed, letting sunlight spill inside. Fan Changyu, disheveled, had a soft golden glow outlining her long lashes, making her eyes appear even clearer and brighter.
Xie Zheng braced one hand beside her, gazing at her quietly with dark, inscrutable eyes. Instead of answering, he raised something in his hand and asked her, "What is this?"Fan Changyu looked at the blood-soaked object in his palm and only now felt a wave of embarrassment. Fortunately, her face was already smeared with blood and sweat, too filthy to discern any flush of heat.
She coughed lightly and turned her face away. "My hair."
Xie Zheng’s breathing inexplicably grew heavier, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on her.
Fan Changyu felt as if his stare alone could bore a hole through her temple. Pressing her lips together, she recalled the emotions she had felt when cutting that lock of hair, a bitter ache rising in her chest. With a resigned sigh, she admitted, "I heard that only by exchanging locks of hair can two become husband and wife. After realizing we’d been tricked in the Western Garden, I thought… even if I went back to find you, it’d be a miracle if I survived. So I cut a strand of my hair. We’ve bowed to heaven and earth in marriage—even if it was fake, we still performed the rites. But we never exchanged hair. If this life really was about to end, then at least tying our hair together would mean we truly became husband and wife."
Xie Zheng’s ragged breath fanned across her cheek as he asked in a low voice, "You knew it was a death trap, yet you still came back for me. Weren’t you afraid?"
Fan Changyu replied, "Of course I was. But my enemy was there, and so were you. How could I not go?"
She reached up to touch his face, her heart still trembling at the memory of Wei Yan ordering the ambush. "And thank the heavens I did."
Xie Zheng wanted to tell her that even if she hadn’t come, he would have been fine—that he had sent her away from the palace battlefield precisely to keep her out of danger. His standoff with Wei Yan had dragged on because he feared Wei Yan or Qi Min might have another scheme lying in wait. But at this moment, words failed him.
His chest ached with a swelling tenderness, as if steeped in warm springs, leaving him numb and breathless. He lowered his head, gripping her hand tightly, his breathing growing heavier with each passing second. When he looked up again, his gaze had inexplicably turned fierce.
Fan Changyu shivered under that intense stare, unsure what she had done to provoke him this time. Just then, the carriage jolted to a stop. Losing her balance, she tumbled into his arms as Xie Shiyi’s voice sounded from outside: "Master, General, we’ve arrived at the marquis’s estate."
Without hesitation, Xie Zheng hauled Fan Changyu out of the carriage and strode toward the main courtyard.
Xie Shiyi, who had been about to fetch the estate’s physician, slowed his steps at the sight, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
Should he still go call for the doctor or not?
The moment they entered the room, Xie Zheng kicked the door shut. He pushed Fan Changyu down onto the divan, looming over her with barely half a foot between them. Their breaths mingled, the metallic scent of blood on him sharpening her senses. He seemed about to kiss her but abruptly pulled away, retrieving a dagger from somewhere and slicing off a lock of his own hair. He knotted it tightly with the blood-drenched strand of hers.
His voice was rough and hoarse. "Tie our hair as husband and wife, love without doubt or strife. In life, we return to each other; in death, we long for eternity. I wanted to exchange locks with you on our wedding day. But since you gave me yours early, I won’t be returning it."
Fan Changyu stared at his stern features, her heart swelling with joy yet suddenly choked with emotion. Her eyes stung faintly as she glared at him. "Who asked you to return it?"
Xie Zheng held her gaze for only a breath before lowering his head to kiss her—fierce and lingering.Fresh from a fierce battle, his blood still boiling hot, he saw her risking her life to save him and heard her vow of a next life. The surging love in his chest coursed through his veins like sizzling fire, rushing and crashing through every limb, desperately seeking an outlet.
Amid the chaos, bloodstained armor was discarded from the outer chamber all the way to the edge of the hot spring pool in the adjoining room. In the misty haze, Fan Changyu leaned against the poolside, holding травма medicine and gauze as she bandaged his mangled hand. His other hand gripped her waist tightly, ripples trembling in the water. His hair roots were soaked with sweat, yet his dark, intense gaze remained locked onto her, unwilling to even blink.
Fan Changyu pressed her lips together stubbornly, her eyes glistening with unshed moisture. Her neck was damp with perspiration, and several times her trembling hands nearly dropped the gauze into the water.
When she finally finished wrapping the bandage, he pressed the nape of her neck, pulling her fully into his embrace. His movements below held no gentleness, his eyes dark and fathomless.
Fan Changyu endured until the end, her strength spent as she collapsed against his shoulder. In her dazed state, she heard him murmur hoarsely by her ear, "Changyu, my wife."
The blood coursing through the thin layers of sinew still thrummed with restless energy, yet within this warmth, it found the utmost tranquility and tenderness.
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