Mo Li

October of that year was undoubtedly a month that would be remembered by the entire world.

For instance, Prince Li Mo Jingli allied with Nanzhao and Western Liang to attack Great Chu. Prince Ding personally led 500,000 troops of the Mo Family Army to confront the three-nation alliance. Meanwhile, the sixteen-year-old Princess Ding, despite being a woman, held the northwest front. On the 15th and 16th of October, within the last line of defense at Hongzhou City in Great Chu’s northwest, she annihilated the entire Western Liang army. By then, the 200,000-strong Western Liang forces that had been confronting the princess in the northwest were completely wiped out. Prince Zhennan of Xiling fled westward in panic, and news of this sent shockwaves across the world.

Moreover, while engaging Prince Zhennan of Xiling, the princess even split her forces, deploying a mere 30,000 soldiers to trap nearly 300,000 enemy troops in a crucial northwestern canyon of Great Chu, leaving them stranded. Qin Feng, the princess’s personal guard, led a mysterious unit of only a few dozen men called the Qilin. Every time the Mo Family Army launched a covert attack or interception, the Qilin spearheaded the assault, unstoppable. On October 17th, the grain and fodder supplies transported by Western Liang’s reinforcements were burned to ashes. A massive Qilin-shaped firework soared into the sky amid the flames, and from that moment, the Qilin became legendary, known throughout the world. With their supplies lost and heavy casualties, the 300,000-strong Western Liang army had no choice but to retreat in disarray to their borders.

Yet, none of this was the most significant news. The most shocking revelation was that on October 16th, Princess Ding fell off a cliff in the Pausing Clouds Mountain Range between Hongzhou City and Ruyang City of Great Chu, vanishing without a trace. Strangely, the forces stationed at the foot of the mountain were not enemies but over 7,000 Great Chu soldiers. In the aftermath, Prince Ding flew into a rage and executed all 7,000 soldiers, including their officers, without sparing a single one. It was said that the blood dyed the wide river at the mountain’s base crimson.

When this news spread, the world erupted in debate. Some condemned Prince Ding as a tyrant who slaughtered the innocent, while others defended him, claiming it was slander. Still, others privately speculated about the connection between the princess’s disappearance and these 7,000 soldiers. However, no matter how much the world discussed it, the Mo Family Army and Prince Ding, who had reoccupied Hongzhou City, remained utterly silent, as if none of it concerned them.

When the news reached the Chu capital, it was during the morning court session. The grand hall fell into dead silence as everyone held their breath, cautiously awaiting the decree of the emperor, whose face was twisted with emotion. Mo Jingqi could barely hold the memorial in his trembling hands—whether from fury or fear, no one knew. After a long pause, he roared, “Outrageous! Mo Xiuyao, how dare you?! Seven thousand soldiers—he slaughtered them without a word to Us! Does he intend to rebel?!”

Below the throne, several elder ministers lowered their heads, their lips twitching imperceptibly. Your Majesty, have you even grasped the main point? Princess Ding might be dead! Given Prince Ding’s devotion to her and her current prestige among the Mo Family Army—and even all of Great Chu—do you really think those 7,000 soldiers are the issue here? And even if you truly believe Prince Ding is rebelling… must you declare it aloud in court before all the civil and military officials? "Your Majesty, Prince Ding has privately executed seven thousand imperial troops and several generals, an act of grave treason. If not severely punished, it will surely dishearten the soldiers of Great Chu and the common people. I implore Your Majesty to decree strict punishment upon Prince Ding." Prime Minister Liu, currently the most influential figure in court, stepped forward to present his memorial. Several other ministers, close confidants of Mo Jingqi, also stepped out to second the motion. Just as Mo Jingqi was about to speak, someone suddenly stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, this must not be done." Mo Jingqi looked up and saw the elderly Grand Academician Su Zhe, who was well past sixty. Mo Jingqi's expression darkened slightly as he said calmly, "What are Elder Su's thoughts?" Su Zhe bowed respectfully and memorialized, "Your Majesty, with the tragic demise of the Princess of the State, Prince Ding must be in extreme grief and fury at this time. He should be comforted, not pressured." Prime Minister Liu turned to Su Zhe and mocked, "So those seven thousand soldiers died for nothing? Elder Su is also a scholar and should understand that the law applies equally to nobles and commoners. Moreover, Prince Ding is merely Your Majesty's subject. Naturally, we deeply mourn the Princess of the State's passing, but does that mean her life is precious while those seven thousand soldiers are mere weeds?" His words were indeed lofty, but who among those standing in this court was a bookish fool? The law applies equally to nobles and commoners? If this principle were truly upheld, the overbearing Liu family would have been exterminated long ago.

Su Zhe glanced at Prime Minister Liu, sighed softly, and continued addressing Mo Jingqi, "I beg Your Majesty to reconsider. Great Chu is currently embroiled in war, and though Prince Ding's actions this time were excessive, Great Chu cannot afford to lose him at this critical juncture. I beseech Your Majesty to pardon Prince Ding's transgression."

Prime Minister Liu snorted lightly and said, "Cannot afford to lose Prince Ding? Are all the civil and military officials of Great Chu mere incompetents? Does Great Chu collapse without Prince Ding?"

Su Zhe replied calmly, "This old man has heard that the Liu family has produced a general. But I wonder how many troops Young General Liu can command and what achievements he has made? Can he replace Prince Ding in quelling the northwestern rebellion?" Prime Minister Liu's face turned ashen with rage. Mo Jingqi slammed the imperial desk heavily and roared, "Enough! Do you take the court for a place to bicker? Silence, all of you! By imperial decree: Mo Xiuyao, Prince Ding, has presumptuously exercised private punishment and slaughtered the innocent, an act of deceiving the sovereign and defying authority. In consideration of his ancestors' merits, We pardon him from the death penalty. His hereditary title of Prince Ding is hereby demoted to that of a commandery prince, and he is fined three years' salary!"

As these words fell, the great hall fell into silence. After a long pause, someone finally reacted, "Your Majesty, please reconsider—"

"Silence! Our decision is final!"The news from the court quickly reached the inner palace. Empress Hua was initially receiving the homage of palace consorts and noblewomen when the message from her trusted palace maid caused her vision to darken momentarily. She swayed slightly but ultimately steadied herself. Waving her hand to dismiss the confused consorts and noblewomen, she asked in a low voice, "Is this true?" The maid whispered, "The news just came from the court. His Majesty's decree of condemnation has likely already left the capital by now." The empress slumped weakly back onto her phoenix throne, murmuring softly, "He's gone mad... Princess Ding... Princess Ding..." The maid added, "Our family has also received word. The Princess of the State is unlikely to survive."

The empress recalled the gentle woman she had met a few times—seemingly meek and graceful, yet exuding an aura that made people want to draw near and feel at ease. That woman... who had astonished the world on the northwestern battlefield, would she wither away in the next moment? Truly... heaven envies beauty...

Soon, the empress regained her composure, masking her expression as she said, "Go personally to see my father. Tell him... tell him to prioritize the Hua family above all else, without regard for me."

The maid hesitated, looking at the empress, who waved her hand dismissively. "Go. My father will understand my meaning." With a worried bow, the maid withdrew, leaving the empress to lean back deeply into her throne with a sigh, her beautiful face filled with concern and helplessness.

"Mother..." Princess Changle hurried into the hall, her small steps quick with worry as she saw the exhaustion on her mother's face. "What's wrong, Mother? Has something happened?"

The empress pulled Princess Changle into her embrace, gently patting her back as she said softly, "It's nothing. Everything will be fine. My dear child... Mother will arrange everything for you..." Though the empress refused to explain, the young princess sensed that something grave had occurred. Nestling obediently in her mother's arms, she said, "Changle will protect Mother too. Changle wants Mother to be safe and well with me."

"My good child..."

Hongzhou City

The atmosphere in the governor's mansion was starkly different from before. Unlike Xinyang, Hongzhou had suffered minimal damage to its structures, save for a few city gates. What chilled the soul was the day-and-night bloodbath that had unfolded within the city. When reinforcements arrived, the original thirty thousand Mo Family Army troops had dwindled to just over ten thousand, while the seventy thousand Western Liang forces had been reduced to fewer than thirty thousand. The entire city reeked of blood, every step staining the ground with dark crimson. The corpses were swiftly removed, the blood-soaked streets and alleys scrubbed clean. Only a faint metallic scent lingered in the air, as if everything had returned to its pre-battle state.

But on the city walls and in the governor's mansion, the ever-composed, reassuring figure in green robes was gone. And the other master of the Mo Family Army remained unconscious, lost in an unending slumber.In the deepest courtyard of the governor's residence, Feng Zhiyao paced restlessly back and forth in the room. Watching Shen Yang, who was sitting by the bed taking the pulse, he asked impatiently, "Shen, when will His Highness wake up?" Ever since descending from the mountain that day, Mo Xiuyao's already frail health had finally succumbed to days of anxiety, exhaustion, and the sudden, overwhelming blow. After vomiting several mouthfuls of blood, he fell from his horse and had not woken since. Meanwhile, the search for the princess consort had not dared to pause for a moment. Feng Zhiyao dispatched nearly ten thousand men daily to scour both downstream and upstream along the great river. Yet, after seven or eight days, there was still no news. Feng Zhiyao knew in his heart that there was likely little hope left.

Shen Yang glanced back at him and shook his head. Feng Zhiyao rushed forward and grabbed him, demanding, "What do you mean by shaking your head?" Shen Yang replied, "When His Highness wakes is not something I can decide." Feng Zhiyao forced a bitter laugh. "What do you mean? Are you telling me His Highness doesn’t want to live anymore?"

Shen Yang shook his head again. "Not exactly. If His Highness truly sought death, he wouldn’t be worthy of being Mo Liufang’s son. What I mean is that his body simply cannot afford to wake right now. The toxins in his system remain uncleared, his constitution is weak from prolonged illness, and now he’s teetering on the brink of extreme danger. If he wakes now, the sheer fury would... well, even without him wishing for it, his body would collapse entirely."

Feng Zhiyao, forgetting all decorum, clawed at his hair in frustration. "Then what do we do now? I can hold out for a few days, maybe even half a month if I push it. But if His Highness doesn’t wake after that—what then? What about the Mo Family Army? What about the northwest?"

Shen Yang shot him a cold look and said flatly, "I’m a physician. Who am I supposed to ask about the rest?"

"Mo Xiuyao still hasn’t woken?" Han Mingxi strode in with a dark expression, his gaze sweeping over the figure on the bed.

Feng Zhiyao frowned at him. "Young Master Han, please show some respect."

Han Mingxi sneered. "Respect? Respect my ass! A Li’s in trouble, and he just lies here playing dead? Move!"

Feng Zhiyao blocked his path, his voice low and stern. "Young Master Han, out of respect for your friendship with the princess consort, I’ve tolerated you. Don’t push your luck."

Han Mingxi laughed in fury. "Oh, so you still remember your princess consort—how touching. Mo Xiuyao, if you’ve got even a breath left in you, get the hell up! Jun Wei meeting you was the worst luck in eight lifetimes."

Feng Zhiyao opened his mouth to retort, but Shen Yang, standing nearby, pulled him back and shook his head, signaling him to step aside and stay out of it.

Han Mingxi snorted and walked to the bedside, looking down at the pale-faced man with undisguised contempt. If not for this man, would Jun Wei—a noble lady—have had to risk her life on the battlefield? Would she have been forced to keep fighting even while pregnant, denied proper rest? All of this was the result of Mo Xiuyao’s incompetence!

"Keep sleeping then! Sleep yourself to death. I’ll avenge Jun Wei myself. Hmph! Coward. Idiot. Worthless..."Feng Zhiyao stared dumbfounded as Han Mingyue unleashed an uninterrupted tirade of every insult he knew, cursing Mo Xiuyao from head to toe without pause. Feng Zhiyao stood frozen, unsure how to react. Heaven above, since the founding of the Ding Royal Palace, no one had ever dared to curse Prince Ding like this.

Finally, having vented the fury pent up in his heart over the past few days, Han Mingxi's expression visibly improved. He shot Mo Xiuyao a glance and snorted, "If you want to keep playing dead, go ahead. I won’t bother with you anymore!" With that, he stormed out like a gust of wind. Feng Zhiyao blinked, his gaze hollow as he turned to Shen Yang. Shen Yang glanced at the figure on the bed, shook his head, and left without a word.

At dawn, Feng Zhiyao was urgently summoned to Mo Xiuyao’s courtyard by the guards. The reason was simple—when the attendants entered in the morning, they found the man who should have been lying unconscious in bed had vanished. Under the watch of hundreds of shadow guards and the protection of tens of thousands of the Mo Family Army both inside and outside the city, the prince had disappeared without a trace, throwing everyone into panic.

Bursting into the courtyard, Feng Zhiyao kicked open the half-closed door and rushed inside, only to freeze at the sight before him.

The bed in the room, where the prince was supposedly missing, remained empty. But by the window in the side chamber stood a gaunt yet upright figure. What shocked Feng Zhiyao most was the stark, snow-white hair cascading down his back.

"P-Prince...?" Regaining his senses, Feng Zhiyao bellowed toward the door, "Fetch Shen at once!"

Mo Xiuyao turned his head, and Feng Zhiyao felt a pang in his heart. The silver-white strands draped loosely around Mo Xiuyao’s neck made his already thin frame appear even more frail and pale. Yet his spirit seemed unnaturally sharp, with none of the physical collapse Shen Yang had predicted might follow an outburst of rage. In fact, to Feng Zhiyao, his condition seemed far better than before the princess’s accident.

But those once-gentle eyes, veiled with indifference, now carried a razor-sharp glint. It reminded Feng Zhiyao of a bloodstained blade—beneath that calm surface lurked something monstrous, waiting to break free. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he dared not dwell on it.

"P-Prince... are you alright?"

Mo Xiuyao’s lips curved faintly, but Feng Zhiyao sensed no warmth in it.

"How many days have I slept?" he asked softly.

Feng Zhiyao’s heart trembled. "Nine days."

"Any news of A Li?"

Feng Zhiyao lowered his head. "The princess... is blessed by heaven. She will surely overcome this trial."

"So, nothing useful..." Mo Xiuyao murmured. "Blessed by heaven? Overcoming trials? I do not believe in gods, nor do I beg the heavens. If she perishes, I will turn this realm into purgatory—let these thousand miles of rivers and mountains become her funeral sacrifice!"

Feng Zhiyao shuddered, ultimately shaking his head in defeat. Had Mo Xiuyao been frenzied, despondent, or grief-stricken, he might have found words to console him. But faced with this man who spoke such chilling words with eerie calm, he could say nothing. He didn’t know what to say—or perhaps, he didn’t dare.The room was enveloped in silence. After a long pause, Mo Xiuyao finally spoke, "Tell me about A Li." Feng Zhiyao wasn't sure what to say, but he couldn't remain silent either. So he recounted everything he could remember in detail, starting from the moment Mo Xiuyao had left. When he inevitably mentioned the child who had barely lived two months, Feng Zhiyao stole a glance at the silver-haired man by the window. Apart from noticing his hands gripping the window frame tightly, there was no trace of emotion on his calm face.

Shen Yang hurried in with his medicine chest, and Feng Zhiyao immediately fell silent, stepping aside to make way. Standing at the doorway, Shen Yang was momentarily stunned by the sight of the figure by the window. The situation before him was clearly unexpected. While tales of hair turning white overnight existed in records, witnessing it firsthand was an entirely different matter. On another note, Shen Yang somewhat understood why Mo Xiuyao had woken up so quickly and was able to stand on his own rather than being bedridden in worse condition. The anger, resentment, pain, and sorrow that had plagued him even in his unconscious state had manifested in this head of white hair. But at least it was a release. As long as Prince Ding didn't indulge his temper and emotions excessively, he would remain safe for the time being. Given enough time, Shen Yang was confident he could find a cure. This thought eased his mind somewhat. Approaching, he said solemnly, "Your Highness, please allow me to take your pulse."

Mo Xiuyao offered no resistance, casually sitting in the chair by the window and resting his wrist on the table. Shen Yang stepped forward to check his pulse, studying Mo Xiuyao with a puzzled expression for a long moment before frowning. "Your Highness's condition... is stable for now. However, I must advise against overexertion. Please take care of yourself."

"Thank you, Shen," Mo Xiuyao nodded.

This time, Shen Yang also sensed something amiss with Mo Xiuyao. While the prince wasn't a difficult patient, he was certainly not one to blindly follow a physician's orders. Seeing him now, earnestly taking in his advice, inexplicably unsettled Shen Yang.

"Your Highness... must have suffered great emotional distress these past few days. I will prescribe some medicine for you to take on time."

"I understand," Mo Xiuyao nodded. After a moment's thought, he lifted a strand of his white hair and said, "Please also prepare some dye to conceal this white hair."

Shen Yang was taken aback but quickly nodded. "As you command."

"Your Highness, an envoy from the capital has arrived," a guard announced from outside the door.

Mo Xiuyao lowered his gaze, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips. "Let him in."

－－－－－－Author's Note－－－－－－

Well, dear readers, you've raised many dislikes about clichés, sob... and one of them was actually something I had planned to include. Since you don't like it, I'll just toss in a different cliché instead, hehe. Isn't the idea of hair turning white overnight quite charming? But our Xiu Yao has no intention of flaunting his white hair around.