Ling Ziyue's expression shifted as he tilted his head back and gulped down several mouthfuls of water. "You're right!"
One shouldn't give up eating for fear of choking. In the past, even when he had people to care about, he had been able to disregard life and death. Now that he had nothing left to lose, there was even less reason to give up.
Mei Yanran watched as Ling Ziyue regained his spirits. On one hand, she admired his unwavering resolve, but on the other, she felt that those who loved greatly often seemed almost indifferent.
An Jiu, however, found his response quite satisfactory—it proved that so many people protecting him hadn’t been in vain.
"Staying holed up in the forest isn’t a long-term solution. Once the situation calms down a bit, we should leave as soon as possible," Sui Yunzhu suggested.
Everyone agreed.
They weren’t just surviving for survival’s sake—it was better to learn about the outside world sooner rather than later.
Liao Kingdom, Shangjing.
Pure white snow piled atop the palace rooftiles.
Yelü Huangwu waited outside the hall, wrapped in a black fur cloak, only the dark purple cuffs and hem of her robes visible. Standing at the base of the steps, she clasped her hands and stared absently at the icicles hanging from the eaves.
"It’s been a long time, Ah Wu." A clear, mellow voice rang out.
Yelü Huangwu snapped out of her thoughts and turned to see a handsome man in dark red robes approaching gracefully. Tall and slender, he wore a fox-fur hat the color of a wildcat, which only accentuated his otherworldly aura.
This man was none other than Yelü Jinglie, the Northern Chancellor of the Liao Kingdom.
"Imperial Uncle," Yelü Huangwu said, a faint smile blooming on her face, revealing a rare trace of girlish charm.
Yelü Jinglie, shedding his usual sinister demeanor, reached out and patted her head. "It’s been over a decade since I last saw you, and you’ve grown into such a beauty! The warriors of Great Liao will be fighting tooth and nail for your favor!"
Though there was an actual age gap of eight or nine years between them, Yelü Jinglie had aged remarkably well—so much so that an outsider might mistake them for siblings.
"Imperial Uncle still loves to tease," Yelü Huangwu chided with a laugh. "Eleven years apart, yet you recognized me at a glance. Truly, no one in all of Great Liao cares for me as much as you do."
At fifteen, she had been demoted for privately raising an army. Officially, it was said she was guarding Empress Xiao’s tomb, but in reality, she had been under house arrest.
"Even if another eleven years passed, I’d still recognize my niece in an instant," Yelü Jinglie mused. "Ah Wu, you resemble the Empress Dowager greatly—especially after all these years of filial devotion. Your bearing has grown even more like hers."
Empress Xiao had once held the reins of power in Liao, and Yelü Jinglie’s words were clearly meant to put Yelü Huangwu in a precarious position.
She was no fool. With a faint smile, she replied, "I wouldn’t wish to toil as my mother did. If I’m fortunate enough to inherit even a fraction of her beauty and secure a good consort in the future, I’ll be more than content."
"Hah! Ah Wu has lofty ambitions indeed," Yelü Jinglie laughed heartily.
On the surface, the exchange was harmonious, but beneath it, tensions simmered. Over a decade ago, the two had already clashed in secret several times. Back then, Yelü Huangwu had been young—though talented, she held little real power in Liao, so their conflicts had been minor. But now, things were different. Yelü Jinglie had long coveted the throne, and Yelü Huangwu had become the current emperor’s right hand. If they were to cross swords again, it would no longer be a mere skirmish.
"What were you looking at just now, Ah Wu?" Yelü Jinglie asked.
"The icicles." The frozen spikes hanging from the eaves refracted dazzling light. Yelü Huangwu said cheerfully, "I heard that in the Southern Song, it only snowed once all winter—on the very day Ling Ziyue was executed. Come spring, not a single drop of rain fell. Truly, Heaven favors our Great Liao!""Indeed! Heaven blesses the Great Liao!" Yelü Jinglie harbored hidden concerns. The new emperor had just ascended the throne, his position not yet secure. For now, most tribes still stood on his side. But if they achieved unprecedented victories in the campaign against the Song, the domestic situation would become unpredictable! Seizing the throne would then be even more difficult.
As they spoke, a palace attendant hurried over and bowed. "Your Highness, Your Majesty, the Emperor requests your presence."
The two nodded slightly and followed the attendant up the steps into the hall.
The room was filled with a faint medicinal scent. A man draped in a black cloak stood by the window, feeding a goshawk.
"Greetings, Your Majesty," they both saluted in unison.
"At ease." The man did not look up, continuing to feed the hawk.
This was Yelü Jinglie's first time meeting the new emperor at such close range. He couldn't help but steal a glance at him. The man was tall, though slightly thin, with a sickly pallor to his face. His lowered brows and eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to his own!
After finishing with the hawk, the emperor returned to his seat. "Sit."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
The two took their seats on either side. Once tea was served, Yelü Jinglie stood again. "I have come to seek Your Majesty's instructions regarding the spring tribute from the tribal chieftains. How should the arrangements be made?"
"Same as previous years. I leave it to you, Imperial Uncle," the emperor replied.
The new Liao emperor, Yelü Quancang, had been raised by a master since childhood in hopes of prolonging his life. Yelü Jinglie barely remembered what his nephew looked like back then, and there was no familial affection between them. Now, he was mostly curious about Yelü Quancang.
Yelü Quancang reclined against the armrest, his robes cascading down, his dark hair half-loose. At first glance, his demeanor seemed more ethereal than Yelü Jinglie's. But upon closer inspection, his sharply defined features—knife-like brows, deep phoenix eyes, and a gaze both authoritative and cold—revealed an undeniable aura of imperial majesty.
Yelü Jinglie felt a chill and quickly bowed. "It is my duty. I dare not speak of hardship."
"If Imperial Uncle is not busy, why not wait in the side hall and join me for lunch?" the emperor offered.
An imperial invitation to dine was not something Yelü Jinglie could refuse unless the tribes were in open rebellion. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Safe travels, Imperial Uncle," Yelü Huangwu stood to see him off.
Once he had left, Yelü Quancang spoke first. "Take the Shadow Wraiths to assist in the campaign against the Song. We must take Zhen Ding Prefecture in one strike."
"But the Medicine..." Yelü Huangwu had prepared to enter Song territory herself to seize it.
"Leave it to Wei Yuzhi. He is no incompetent," Yelü Quancang said.
Unsure whether this was to keep her in check, Yelü Huangwu did not insist. "Understood. However, the Shadow Wraiths' strength is not what it once was. Their aid may be limited. It would be best to find a way to mobilize the tribes."
After her confinement, the Shadow Wraiths had disbanded and hidden in the shadows, their power not diminished but grown stronger—even surpassing the imperial Shadow Guards. Yet she chose to conceal their true strength.
"Hmm." Yelü Quancang responded indifferently, his belief or disbelief unclear.
Yelü Huangwu understood why her uncle had been invited to stay for lunch. Even if he hadn't come today, the emperor would have summoned him. His schemes and stratagems far surpassed her own.
With such an emperor, the Great Liao's conquest of the Song was imminent. What a pity...If the heart blood could not be retrieved and the emperor were to pass away, the throne would likely fall to Yelü Jinglie. By then, her days would surely be numbered!
Yelü Jinglie's weakness lay in his mother's lowly clan status, but his advantage was his longevity.
As the saying goes, "A new sovereign brings new ministers." Frequent changes in rulership were extremely detrimental. Short-lived emperors who died after only a few years on the throne, before accomplishing anything, would lead the nation into steady decline over time. Both court officials and commoners longed for a long-reigning monarch.
Late April.
The Liao people were like a pack of wolves starved through winter. Fortunately, the imperial court had anticipated this and recalled Wu Zhuo from Jiaozhi to defend the city in advance.
Wu Zhuo had once been an anti-Liao general with notable achievements. Leading a large army, he might not guarantee absolute safety, but he would certainly not let the Liao forces approach Bianjing easily. However, Yelü Huangwu sent the Ghost Tiger Army disguised as the Great Song's Crane Control Army to secretly deliver an oral decree to Xu Yun, ordering him to lead troops to block the Liao Iron Cavalry.
Xu Yun took it as genuine. After deploying defenses at Xijin Prefecture, he personally led ten thousand elite troops to assist Wu Zhuo in resisting the enemy!
The next day, the Liao Ghost Tiger Army infiltrated Xijin Prefecture first, collaborating with three thousand Liao soldiers inside and outside to recapture the prefecture. Xu Yun's seventy thousand troops were annihilated.
Meanwhile, the northern regions of the Great Song had long suffered from drought, and a plague was quietly spreading.
The dire news snowed into Bianjing like a blizzard. The emperor, who had been immersed in Daoist cultivation, seemed struck by lightning and finally began attending to state affairs. Yet solving these accumulating crises was easier said than done.
Only now did he truly realize Ling Ziyue's importance.
The Liao and Song dynasties finally returned to the negotiation table. This time, the situation was far from optimistic—it seemed the Song's territory might shrink further south.
Not long ago, the entire nation had been immersed in the joy of capturing Xijin Prefecture. In the blink of an eye, the situation had deteriorated so badly that even defending the borders seemed impossible. The experience felt like plummeting from the clouds into an abyss!
If there was any silver lining in this dramatic disaster, it was that the Great Song, after this heavy blow, finally showed signs of awakening.
Defending the homeland was now urgent. Humans are creatures easily swayed by atmosphere—even scholars who could not harm a fly in peacetime might now impulsively take up arms to fight.
As Chu Dingjiang had said, Confucianism had undergone transformations and was no longer what it once was, but its spirit of integrity had never disappeared.
At the southernmost edge of the Great Song, near the jungles bordering Jiaozhi, five figures emerged one after another.
The group found a nearby hunter's hut to wash up and rest. Only after over two hours could their features be discerned.
After a slight disguise, they hurried toward Yongzhou. Though they mostly took small paths, they still gathered much news along the way.
"It's over," Ling Ziyue felt utterly drained.
"What do you mean?" Li Qingzhi asked urgently.
Sui Yunzhu said, "General Wu shouldn't be so incompetent! If Zhending Prefecture hadn't fallen, why would the Emperor order General Xu to abandon Xijin Prefecture and rush to Zhending to resist the Liao forces? Most likely, General Xu fell for a Liao trick! This stratagem served two purposes: reclaiming Xijin Prefecture and overthrowing General Xu."
At the time, the situation was critical. Xu Yun never doubted Wu Zhuo's capabilities. Though he had hesitated before deploying troops, he ultimately considered that Wu Zhuo had been urgently dispatched to Zhending Prefecture by the court and might struggle to respond effectively in haste.No matter what, Xu Yun could hardly escape blame for such a grave mistake! Even if the nation was in crisis and needed capable men, how could the lives of seventy thousand soldiers be accounted for? His competence would undoubtedly be called into question.
"Given General Xu's temperament, there's a ninety percent chance he'll take his own life." Ling Ziyue knew Xu Yun too well. The man acted with too many reservations, and with Ling's own example before him, he would likely sacrifice himself to protect his family.
The two great generals of the Great Song Dynasty—one with too many scruples, the other with none at all. (To be continued...)
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