Mo Li

On the battlefield, watching Zhu Ling dominate the fight, the soldiers of the Mo Family Army grew restless. Though Zhang Qilan knew he was no match for Zhu Ling, he couldn’t stand seeing the enemy flaunt their strength right before his eyes.

“Who is this kid?” Zhang Qilan frowned and asked.

Beside him, Qin Feng chuckled. “He must be a descendant of Zhu Yan, likely a grandson or something. I heard Zhu Yan did have a grandson, but he was frail and sickly from childhood. No one has seen him since he was about ten. Many assumed he died young. But it seems he’s this one here.”

Zhang Qilan nodded. “No wonder. The grandson of the General Who Pacifies Heaven—quite the figure. Commander Qin, I’ll leave this to you.” The leader of the Qilin had insisted on following him to defend the city—wasn’t this exactly what he was here for?

Qin Feng flashed a rare grin, tugged the reins, and his well-trained warhorse let out a fierce neigh as it charged toward the man in moon-white robes on the battlefield. Amid the chaos, Zhu Ling had already sensed someone rushing toward him. Dispatching the enemies around him, he turned to face the newcomer just as Qin Feng arrived.

Qin Feng raised an eyebrow and swung his sword straight at Zhu Ling’s face. Zhu Ling leaned aside on horseback to evade and countered with his own blade. The two exchanged blows atop their steeds.

However, since both wielded swords—no matter how long—fighting on horseback was cumbersome. After dozens of exchanges, they tacitly agreed to dismount and continue their duel on the ground. Zhu Ling flicked his sword and pointed it at Qin Feng. “Who are you? State your name.”

Qin Feng smirked. “Qin Feng, under the command of Wang Fei of Prince Ding’s Estate. And you?”

Zhu Ling frowned slightly—this answer told him nothing—but still replied coldly, “Zhu Ling, commander of the Pacification Army of Western Liang.”

Qin Feng grinned. “So you really are the descendant of the old General Zhu? A pleasure!” Zhu Ling scoffed, and without another word, they clashed again.

From the rear, Zhang Qilan watched as Zhu Ling was tied up by Qin Feng and couldn’t help but feel pleased. He nodded repeatedly. “Wang Fei was right to leave Qin Feng behind. Truly far-sighted—I’m nowhere close.” Without Qin Feng, this Zhu Ling would’ve been a real headache.

This was exactly why he hated it when martial artists interfered in battles. Ignoring them wasn’t an option—their lethality far surpassed that of ordinary soldiers, sometimes by tenfold or more. But sending officers to deal with them risked losing capable commanders over a single rogue fighter—a devastating loss. Zhang Qilan decided that from now on, he’d borrow a few Qilin from Wang Fei for every battle to keep such threats in check.Here, Zhang Qilan was pleased, but Zhu Yan on the city walls was anything but. Once Zhu Ling was entangled, the formation of the Western Mausoleum soldiers immediately fell into chaos. The Mo Family Army seized the opportunity to strike mercilessly, and within moments, the Western Mausoleum forces had already suffered heavy losses. Qin Feng and Zhu Ling were locked in an exhilarating duel. Although Prince Ding's Estate boasted many skilled fighters, they were all familiar faces, making the fights rather dull. Moreover, Qin Feng wasn’t bold enough to challenge a master like Prince Ding just yet. Thus, encountering an unfamiliar yet formidable opponent like Zhu Ling naturally filled him with excitement, and he eagerly pressed the attack.

Zhu Ling, on the other hand, was inwardly groaning in frustration. He hadn’t expected that a seemingly unknown young officer from the Mo Family Army could hold him off for so long. His initial plan had been to swiftly kill Qin Feng to establish dominance, but now the battle dragged on endlessly, leaving him trapped in a dilemma—he couldn’t withdraw unilaterally unless Qin Feng relented.

As the fight progressed, Zhu Ling realized Qin Feng’s skills were no worse than his own. If this continued, they would likely end up mutually wounded. However, while Qin Feng could afford injuries, Zhu Ling could not. He was the commander of the Pacification Army, and his grandfather Zhu Yan was too old to lead troops into battle. This thought made Zhu Ling increasingly impatient, and his attacks grew less composed. Qin Feng seized the moment to launch a fierce assault, nearly inflicting serious damage on him.

On the city walls, Zhu Yan frowned as he watched Zhu Ling struggle against Qin Feng. He signaled the soldiers beside him to sound the retreat.

At the call of the horns, the Western Mausoleum soldiers swiftly withdrew into the city. Zhang Qilan didn’t order a pursuit—the small city’s gates were easy to breach, but the nearly 200,000-strong Western Mausoleum army inside was another matter. Engaging in urban warfare within the city would result in heavy casualties, something the Mo Family Army was unwilling to accept.

Qin Feng didn’t press the fight either, generously retreating to let Zhu Ling return to the city before riding back to the Mo Family Army’s formation.

“How was it?” Zhang Qilan asked.

Qin Feng looked thoroughly satisfied and nodded in approval. “A true master. General Zhang, it’s best not to recklessly challenge him.”

Zhang Qilan curled his lip and muttered irritably, “I know, I’m not tired of living yet. Now, kid, can you finally tell me? Where has Wang Fei gone?”

Don’t mistake Zhang Qilan’s rough-and-tumble personality for carelessness. The supposed reinforcements led by Wang Fei had never shown up, and this had Zhang Qilan deeply worried. Given the situation, even Wang Ye probably didn’t know where Wang Fei had gone. If Wang Ye found out, wouldn’t he skin Zhang Qilan alive?

“General Zhang, stay calm,” Qin Feng reassured. “As I said, I’ve already sent people to assist Wang Fei.”

Zhang Qilan shot him a glare—that explanation only made things worse. If Wang Fei needed assistance, it clearly meant she had gone somewhere unsafe. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the urge to throw Qin Feng out. “What can we do?”

Qin Feng thought for a moment. “Wait for Wang Fei’s signal, then join forces with Third Master Feng to encircle and annihilate the enemy?”

“Feng San was supposed to be in the main camp! Where the hell did he come from?!” Zhang Qilan roared.

Qin Feng remained unruffled. “Heaven’s secrets cannot be revealed. This… you understand, General?”

Understand your sister!Less than a quarter of an hour after both armies had withdrawn, thick smoke suddenly billowed from the mountains in the southwest. Thanks to the clear, cloudless weather today, the usual mist shrouding the peaks had largely dissipated. Even from dozens of miles away, the sight was unmistakable. At this sight, Zhu Ling and Zhu Yan turned pale with shock. "Grandfather! The mountains—" Hidden within those mountains were not just over a hundred thousand elite troops but also enough provisions to feed an army of two hundred thousand for a year. Zhu Yan, well aware of this, wore a grim expression on his aged face. "Take the troops back!"

"But Grandfather, what about here—" Zhu Ling protested anxiously.

Zhu Yan cut him off. "No more words. If the Mo Family Army captures our base, our hundred thousand men will be trapped in this isolated city with barely enough food to last a few days." This small town was nothing like the great city of Bian—even if the Mo Family Army didn't attack, a siege of three to five months wouldn't be an issue. But with over a hundred thousand soldiers, the town's food reserves would be devoured in less than five days. Then, they'd be left starving, waiting helplessly for the Mo Family Army to finish them off.

"The Mo Family Army won't have that many troops there—no more than thirty thousand at most. Take the soldiers back and stabilize the situation at all costs!" Zhu Yan ordered.

"Grandfather..."

With a sigh, Zhu Yan patted his grandson's shoulder. "Go. I'll cover your retreat."

Gritting his teeth, Zhu Ling nodded, his eyes reddening. "Understood. Take care, Grandfather!"

"Go!"

Zhu Ling led the hundred thousand troops he had brought back toward the mountains they had occupied for over a decade. Meanwhile, in the small town behind them, Zhu Yan, now over seventy, remained with fewer than fifty thousand Western Liang soldiers to defend the lonely county town. They would soon face the wrath of the Mo Family Army—over a hundred thousand strong, battle-hardened and bloodthirsty. Mounted on his horse, Zhu Ling cast one last glance at the town under the night sky, where his grandfather's aged figure stood alone atop the city walls, gazing in his direction. His heart clenched. Suppressing the sting in his eyes, he whipped his steed and galloped ahead.

The town wasn't far from the mountains where the Pacification Army was stationed—just twenty or thirty miles, a little over an hour's march. But once they entered the mountains, their pace slowed. Though this was a place they had lived in for over a decade, familiar as the back of their hands, the figures lurking within were no longer their comrades, brothers, or kin—but likely enemies lying in wait.

"Young Master, the scouts sent ahead report no movement," a guard whispered as he rode up to Zhu Ling.

Zhu Ling's voice was grave. "The lack of movement is the problem. I fear... those left behind are already gone." He had left thirty thousand men stationed in these mountains when he departed. If they had returned, how could there be no sign of them? Now, staring at the dark, silent peaks before him, Zhu Ling wiped away the last shred of hope in his heart."Young Master, that Miss Yang truly..." The guard couldn't bring himself to continue. Though they'd only interacted for a few short days, he'd grown quite fond of the young lady. Likewise, he could see his master treated her differently. Having spent years secluded in the mountains with little outside contact, it would have been joyous if the young master and Miss Yang could have formed a bond. But who could have imagined...

At the memory of that delicate, graceful maiden, Zhu Ling's expression darkened. Never had he thought he'd be deceived by a woman—and that very girl... Even now, a sliver of desperate hope lingered within him, wishing this was all just a misunderstanding. Yet his reason told him plainly—what kind of coincidence could possibly explain this?

Seeing his master's brooding expression in the dark night, the guard quickly changed the subject. "Young Master, once we pass this mountain pass, we'll soon reach our camp."

"Tell the vanguard to proceed with caution," Zhu Ling nodded solemnly.

But sometimes caution proves futile. The mountain path was narrow, and the forward soldiers passed through uneventfully. Just as everyone began to relax, a tremendous explosion echoed through the mountains. To their horror, an enormous boulder came crashing down from the summit, propelled by some unseen force. Then, with a deafening roar, countless rocks tumbled from both sides of the slope, swiftly blocking their advance and retreat. The agonized cries of soldiers crushed beneath the falling stones instantly filled the mountain forest.

Soon, countless torches flared to life on both slopes, illuminating the dark woods with two dazzling, serpentine lines of fire.

Trapped in the valley, some Western Liang soldiers panicked while others fought back. But the enemy held the high ground, and the Mo Family Army's archery skills were renowned across nations. In moments, the valley was thick with the metallic scent of blood.

Zhu Ling stood silently amidst the chaos, his loyal guards deflecting stray arrows that came too close. His handsome features, flickering in and out of the torchlight, were twisted with fury and despair. Yet against the overwhelming rain of arrows from above, he was powerless. Decades of effort—his grandfather's twenty years of meticulous planning—was it all to be destroyed before he could even react? What perished in this insignificant mountain valley today wasn't just the Zhu family's hundred-thousand strong Pacification Army, but also his own decade of painstaking dedication, endurance, and soaring ambitions.

Ultimately, he was still too young. What Zhu Ling failed to understand was this: while ancient wisdom says heroes emerge from chaos, any given era produces only a handful of true heroes—the rest become mere cannon fodder for their legends. And nowhere is it written that effort alone guarantees one will become that era's chosen hero.

"Young Master, you must flee!" A guard shoved him back to awareness. Zhu Ling saw then that his remaining guards were all wounded yet still forming a protective circle around him. But the terrain was hopelessly against them, and the Mo Family Army's master archers weren't easily thwarted. They'd reached the end of the road.

Zhu Ling laughed bitterly. "Flee? Where could I possibly go?""Anywhere is fine, as long as we survive. Young Master, hurry and go!" the guard urged anxiously, unable to resist giving Zhu Ling another push. He sharply reminded, "Young Master, don’t forget the old general is still waiting for you!" Zhu Ling jolted, as if finally snapping back to reality. Looking around, the valley was a scene of devastation, with less than twenty percent of the soldiers still able to stand.

"Protect the Young Master! Fight your way out!" someone nearby growled in a low voice. Soon, loyal guards and retainers of the Zhu family surged forward, supporting Zhu Ling as they charged ahead. Having lived in these mountains for over twenty years, they naturally knew which paths offered the best chance of escape. The remaining soldiers, realizing they were cornered, roared in fury and rushed up the slopes on either side, determined to take the enemy down with them. But most were swiftly shot down. A few managed to reach the summit, only to meet the blades of the Mo Family Army lying in wait.

The group protecting Zhu Ling consisted of highly skilled warriors, yet by the time they broke out of the valley, only seven or eight remained. Once beyond the encirclement, the dense forests became their domain. Even the formidable Mo Family Army would find it nearly impossible to track them through such rugged terrain. However, the sight that greeted them upon exiting the valley left them stunned. Even in the dim moonlight, the ground was littered with corpses, and the air reeked of blood. These were the soldiers who had charged out earlier—only to fall into another ambush set by the enemy outside.

"Young Master, let’s go!" a battered guard beside Zhu Ling rasped, tugging at his sleeve.

"Go," Zhu Ling replied hoarsely.

"Young Master Zhu." A soft, elegant voice drifted through the blood-soaked woods. Zhu Ling’s heart clenched as he looked up. By the mountain path ahead stood a young woman in white, her figure poised against the wind. Under the pale moonlight, her delicate features glowed faintly, her serene eyes shimmering with quiet radiance. Her sudden appearance in this grim, bloodied battlefield made her seem like a woodland spirit.

"Who... are you?" Zhu Ling’s voice was brittle as he stared at her, struggling to speak.

The young woman in white smiled faintly, a hint of apology in her expression. "My name is Ye Li."

Ye... Li. Two simple, unremarkable characters—a plain name. Yet to Zhu Ling, they struck like thunder from the heavens, deafening. After a long pause, he began to laugh, slow and disbelieving. "Ye Li? Ye Li... Princess Ding, Ye Li... Hahaha..." As if hearing the most absurd joke, his laughter grew louder, until he was nearly breathless. "You’re the Princess Ding?"

Ye Li nodded. "I am Princess Ding."

"You deceived me," Zhu Ling gritted out.

Ye Li nodded again. "I deceived you." Her clear eyes held traces of regret and resignation—but no remorse or guilt. In war, there is no good or evil, no right or wrong. Only sides. Opposing sides make enemies, and against enemies... any means are justified. This was a principle Ye Li upheld, in this life and the last."What a formidable Princess Ding..." Zhu Ling murmured softly, "I heard that years ago, Zhennan Wang Lei Zhenting's hundreds of thousands of troops were nearly annihilated by Princess Ding. Today, I, Zhu Ling, am defeated again by Princess Ding, yet I cannot consider it a loss. To have the Princess go to such lengths for me is truly the fortune of three lifetimes." Ye Li gave a faint, helpless smile. "The hundred thousand troops under Young Master Zhu may not be vast, but our army is currently in dire need of soldiers. If you were to suddenly launch an attack, it would undoubtedly cause significant trouble for the Mo Family Army. Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. If I have been discourteous, I ask for your forgiveness."

"Were you targeting the Pacification Army from the very beginning?" Zhu Ling asked.

Ye Li smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying.

"Old General Zhu quietly concealed over a hundred thousand troops near Bian City, presumably with ample provisions as well. To be honest, what we initially coveted was not Young Master Zhu's troops but the provisions sustaining them." From nearby, Feng Zhiyao strolled over in his bright red robes, the blood on his inverted sword dripping steadily along the way.

Ye Li sighed helplessly and asked, "Why are you here?"

Feng Zhiyao grinned. "With the Princess personally taking such risks, how could I explain myself to Wang Ye if I didn't come?"

Ye Li frowned slightly, giving him a cool look. You didn’t have to tell him!

Feng Zhiyao raised an eyebrow. Does the Princess really think it could be kept a secret?

Watching the silent exchange between the two, Zhu Ling sighed softly, his expression somber. He turned his calm gaze to the young woman in white before him. "What does the Princess intend to do now?"

After a brief silence, Ye Li replied evenly, "I ask that you come with us."

Zhu Ling was silent for a moment before suddenly bursting into laughter. Pointing at Ye Li, he declared, "I, Zhu Ling, may have achieved nothing in my life, but as a descendant of the Zhu family, I will never become a prisoner. Nor will I give you the chance to threaten my grandfather!" Ye Li sighed regretfully. "Then what does Young Master propose to do?"

Zhu Ling drew a sword from one of his guards and pointed it at Feng Zhiyao and the Black Cloud Cavalry behind him, his voice resolute. "I seek only to die in battle!"

The playful smile on Feng Zhiyao's face faded, replaced by solemnity. In his eyes, Zhu Ling still seemed somewhat inexperienced—had he a few more years, his achievements would surely surpass his own. As fellow commanders, even if the other was a defeated general, he respected him and was willing to grant his wish. Casually tearing off a piece of his robe, he wiped the blood from his sword and nodded. "Young Master Zhu, after you."

"Wait." Ye Li's voice interrupted. Feng Zhiyao paused and withdrew his sword, turning to her. Ye Li raised a hand to stop Lin Han behind her and stepped forward, her clear voice ringing out as she faced the bloodstained young man. "I would like to duel with you, Young Master."

"Princess!" Feng Zhiyao and the others were startled and quickly tried to dissuade her. Though Zhu Ling's army was now defeated, he himself was still a formidable warrior. The blood on his clothes was not his own—in fact, he had hardly fought tonight. Ye Li waved off their protests and approached Zhu Ling. "Would you grant me this duel, Young Master?"

"I have heard that Princess Ding is a peerless warrior. It would be my honor. After you!"In the not-so-vast mountain forest, corpses lay scattered across the wilderness, and rivers of blood flowed.

On the battlefield strewn with the dismembered bodies of Western Liang soldiers, a man in moon-white robes and a young woman in white stood calmly facing each other. Were it not for the corpses littering the ground and the bloodstained swords, it would have been a picturesque scene. Nearby, a crowd silently watched them.

Zhu Ling's longsword trembled in his hand, drawing two silver arcs in the air. Ye Li responded with a faint smile, a dagger gleaming like snow flashing between her fingers. After only a brief pause, the two figures dashed toward each other at incredible speed, their forms crossing and intertwining in an instant. Zhu Ling's sword unleashed sweeping waves of sword energy, while Ye Li's dagger radiated a sinister, chilling aura.

Soon, Zhu Ling realized that in close combat with this woman, he could gain no advantage—it even greatly restricted the full potential of his swordsmanship. Thus, he quickly distanced himself from Ye Li. But she would not give him that chance. Her icy dagger clung to him like a persistent shadow, grazing his clothes again and again, sending chills through the skin beneath his garments.

The clash of the long sword against the short dagger sent a slight tremor through Ye Li's hand. After all, a woman's strength could hardly match a man's no matter what. With a furrowed brow, she slid her dagger along the blade straight toward Zhu Ling's wrist, forcing him to swiftly pull back to avoid the strike.

"Princess Ding's skills are impressive!"

"You flatter me, Young Master Zhu."

Outside the battlefield, Feng Zhiyao frowned as he watched the two locked in combat. Yet he couldn't deny that Wang Fei had made remarkable progress over the years—even against a rare expert like Zhu Ling, she didn’t falter in the slightest. Lin Han appeared beside him at some point, his gaze equally fixed on the duel as he asked, "Why is Third Master Feng here? What about General Zhang’s side—"

"Qin Feng is enough to handle things there. Even if he isn’t, he can buy us time to return," Feng Zhiyao replied. "I wasn’t comfortable leaving Wang Fei to face danger alone. More importantly, how’s your injury?"

Lin Han touched his back and shook his head. The wound looked vicious, but the blade had been carefully placed to avoid any vital spots—it was merely a flesh wound.

Feng Zhiyao grinned smugly. "I figured as much. After all, I was the one who did it. Not bad, right?"

"Thank you for your mercy, Third Master Feng," Lin Han said through gritted teeth. Even if he had volunteered for it, no one would be in a good mood after being slashed for no reason. Seeing the culprit proudly boasting about it only deepened his irritation. Lin Han was convinced this man needed a good thrashing.

"Wang Fei, watch out!" Feng Zhiyao’s sharp warning cut through the air as he caught a glint of silver. On the other side, one of Zhu Ling’s guards, seeing Ye Li holding her own against his master, flashed a murderous glint in his eyes. The moment Ye Li and Zhu Ling separated, a gleaming hidden weapon shot toward her.

At Feng Zhiyao’s warning, Ye Li heard the whistle of the projectile behind her. Without turning, she swung her dagger backward to deflect it—only for Zhu Ling to suddenly lunge forward. Frowning, she raised her palm to strike, but Zhu Ling shoved her aside, and the hidden weapon buried itself deep into his chest instead.

"Young Master!" the guard screamed, but before he could react, an arrow from the Mo Family Army pierced through his heart.

Ye Li steadied herself and turned, her delicate features flickering with shock at the fallen man. Seeing that Wang Fei was unharmed, Feng Zhiyao exhaled in relief and quickly led his men forward to check for any survivors, wary of another surprise attack.

The hidden weapon was a common willow-leaf dart. Nearly the entire blade had sunk into Zhu Ling’s chest, leaving only the tip exposed—its surface glinting with a sinister blue hue. Feng Zhiyao’s expression darkened. "It’s poisoned."

Lin Han glanced at Zhu Ling, collapsed on the ground, and remarked coolly, "Even if he hadn’t blocked it, the dart wouldn’t have hit Wang Fei." Ye Li’s dagger had been poised to knock it away—until Zhu Ling had knocked her off balance.On the bloodstained ground, Zhu Ling lay motionless, his upper body even resting on a soldier who had died long ago. His dim eyes gazed at Ye Li before him, his lips twitching but ultimately saying nothing. Ye Li looked down at him and said calmly, "Was this really necessary?"

The handsome young man struggled to curl his lips into a faint smile. "I lost... My life... has turned out like this..."

Ye Li replied evenly, "Victory and defeat are common in war. Only the living can turn the tide. Death means nothing remains." Zhu Ling was momentarily stunned, then shook his head and smiled at her. "What’s the point of saying this now? I never thought... never thought I would lose so utterly... Just as I never imagined you would be... would be the Princess of the State..."

Ye Li remained silent. Zhu Ling smiled weakly. "You don’t... don’t need to feel sorry. I’m tired... so tired..." The poison on the willow-leaf dart was clearly no ordinary toxin. Soon, black blood trickled from Zhu Ling’s lips, and his eyes slowly closed.

Ye Li surveyed the battlefield strewn with corpses, her gaze lingering on the young man in moon-white robes now stained with blood, his face peaceful in death. A bone-chilling cold suddenly gripped her, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself.

"Wang Fei, he didn’t want to live anymore. This wasn’t your fault," Lin Han said softly. Even if Zhu Ling hadn’t blocked the dart, Ye Li would have been unharmed. They could see it clearly from this distance, and Zhu Ling, standing right beside her, must have known too. From the moment he drew his sword to challenge her, he had already resolved to die. For a proud young man like him, suffering such a crushing defeat in his first major battle left him no reason to go on living.

"I know," Ye Li nodded. "Clean up the battlefield and return to reinforce General Zhang!"

"Yes, Wang Fei," Feng Zhiyao responded.

Dozens of miles away, in a small city, Zhu Yan stood atop the city walls late at night, unable to sleep as he gazed into the distance. Suddenly, an inexplicable pang of dread struck him. Staring blankly toward the southwest, his lips trembled as two murky tears streamed down his wrinkled face.

"Ling'er..."

At the fourth watch, the Western Liang garrison in the small city launched a sudden attack. Though the Mo Family Army had remained vigilant, the predawn hour was when most soldiers were deep in sleep. The unexpected assault caused some initial chaos. However, as seasoned veterans, the Mo Family Army quickly rallied and engaged Zhu Yan’s forces in fierce combat.

"What’s going on? Why would Zhu Yan launch a surprise attack now?" Zhang Qilan, positioned behind the main forces, frowned as he surveyed the battlefield. With decades of military experience, he could easily discern the stark difference in the Western Liang soldiers’ morale—this was the desperate resolve of men ready to die and take their enemies with them. Glancing at the aged figure standing tall on the distant city walls, Zhang Qilan sensed something had happened—something he didn’t yet know. A commander of Zhu Yan’s caliber and experience would never make such a reckless move without reason.

Beside him, Qin Feng wore a composed expression. "Perhaps Wang Fei’s side succeeded. But... we haven’t received any news yet. How did Zhu Yan find out?""Success?" Zhang Qilan turned around and grabbed Qin Feng by the collar, demanding, "You still haven't told me what exactly Wang Fei went to do?!" Qin Feng leisurely brushed off the hand gripping his collar and replied, "Wang Fei went to investigate the location where Zhu Ling's hundred thousand troops are stationed. And... there should be a large amount of provisions and supplies there. This way, we won’t have to worry about provisions and military supplies for a while."

"What?" Zhang Qilan was shocked. "Wang Fei went to..." Qin Feng chuckled, "Otherwise, General, what did you think we were guarding this useless little county town for these past few days? If they were hiding deep in the mountains and refused to come out, even sending three or four hundred thousand troops in might not be enough to deal with them. But now, haven’t they come out on their own? Once they emerged, we could seize the opportunity to take their base. The hundred thousand troops that retreated last night are probably gone too. Otherwise, Zhu Yan wouldn’t be acting so recklessly."

Zhang Qilan took several deep breaths, feeling as if this sudden news had nearly scared him half to death. But... wasn’t this ultimately good news? Even if Zhu Yan went mad, fighting in the dead of night wasn’t something he feared. The forces on both sides were roughly equal, and it was still uncertain who would emerge victorious.

Amid the chaotic clash of the two armies, the thunderous sound of galloping horses approached from the distance. The familiar soldiers of the Mo Family Army began to show signs of joy.

"It’s the Black Cloud Cavalry! The Black Cloud Cavalry is here!" From the southwest, a black cavalry unit swept in like a storm, swiftly charging into the battlefield. Soon, the previously evenly matched battle began to tilt overwhelmingly in one direction. Behind the black cavalry, Ye Li and Mo Xiuyao rode swiftly on their steeds, quickly merging into the ranks of the Mo Family Army.

Spotting Ye Li’s return from afar, Zhang Qilan hurriedly led his men forward to greet her. "Wang Fei!"

Ye Li glanced at the battlefield ahead, naturally noticing the solitary elderly figure standing on the city tower. After a brief pause, she said, "At ease, General Zhang. How goes the battle?" Zhang Qilan smiled, "Rest assured, Wang Fei. With the Black Cloud Cavalry joining us, we will crush the Western Liang defenders before dawn." Seeing Ye Li return safely finally put Zhang Qilan’s mind at ease. A few days ago, Wang Fei had arrived with Qin Feng and others, claiming to be under Wang Ye’s orders to assist in defending the city. But since her arrival, he hadn’t seen her again until now, when he finally learned what she had been doing. The shock had left his heart trembling even now. If anything had happened to Wang Fei, how could they ever face Wang Ye?

"Congratulations, Wang Fei, for effortlessly wiping out over a hundred thousand of the Pacification Army," Zhang Qilan said with a smile.

Ye Li gave a faint smile and shook her head. "If not for your steadfast presence here, General, it wouldn’t have been so easy."

The fierce battle continued until daybreak, when the Western Liang defenders finally succumbed to defeat and retreated into the city. The small town’s gates and walls offered little defense, and within less than an hour, the Mo Family Army and the Black Cloud Cavalry breached the gates, charging once more into the tiny county town. By then, there were few Western Liang soldiers left in the town, with only sporadic skirmishes echoing through the streets. As Ye Li and her party entered the town, soldiers who had arrived earlier came to report, "General Zhu Yan is still on the city tower."The group exchanged glances, and Ye Li said softly, "Let's go take a look."

Naturally, no one objected, and they followed Ye Li up to the city tower. At one corner of the tower, Zhu Yan stood with his hands behind his back, clad in somewhat aged battle robes, gazing into the distance toward Bian City. He seemed not to have noticed Ye Li and the others approaching. Ye Li was in no hurry either, calmly observing the old man's back.

After what felt like a long while, Zhu Yan slowly turned to survey the group, his gaze finally settling on Ye Li, who was dressed in white. He asked in a deep voice, "This... young lady—are you Miss Yang? Or Princess Ding?" Ye Li cupped her hands in greeting and replied with a faint, respectful smile, "This junior is Ye Li, paying respects to General Zhu."

Zhu Yan nodded and chuckled, "So it is Princess Ding after all? To be so young... truly a prodigy. Prince Ding's Estate is fortunate..."

Ye Li said softly, "You flatter me, elder."

Zhu Yan looked at her, his eyes carrying an indescribable, peculiar emotion. After hesitating for a moment, he asked, "That worthless grandson of mine—how did Princess Ding deal with him?" Ye Li sighed quietly and replied in a low voice, "Young Master Zhu has... fallen in battle. My condolences, General."

Zhu Yan's body trembled slightly, and his grip on his spear shook. In the end, he could only let out a long sigh toward the sky and said, "Fallen in battle... very well... It was my fault. He could have..." His only grandson had been bright and talented since childhood, full of wisdom and brilliance. If not for him, if not for the Pacification Army, he could have lived freely, with both fame and fortune. But because of him, for his ambitions and aspirations, Zhu Ling had secluded himself in the mountains at the age of twelve or thirteen, never seen by outsiders. Even if he died on the battlefield, no one would ever know his name, and he would never receive the identity and glory he deserved.

"General..." Ye Li sighed. "Young Master Zhu has already fallen. Please accept my condolences. If his spirit watches over us, he surely wouldn’t wish for you to grieve so deeply for him."

Zhu Yan shook his head. "Princess Ding, there’s no need to console this old man. I’m already nearing seventy—I’ve lived long enough. Now that we’ve been defeated here, I have nothing more to say." Feng Zhiyao frowned slightly and said firmly, "General Zhu, why must it come to this? The Mo Family Army is not one to slaughter indiscriminately."

Zhu Yan glanced at Feng Zhiyao and couldn’t help but laugh. "This general’s words—could it be that the Mo Family Army intends to persuade me to surrender? This old man is of no use to your army. Besides... I’ve fought half my life for Western Liang. To lose my integrity at the end would be laughable."

Ye Li lowered her gaze and said calmly, "You misunderstand, General. The Mo Family Army would never dare to persuade someone of your integrity to surrender. Now that victory and defeat are decided, and you have long since retired from the battlefield, we ask only that you leave peacefully. Prince Ding's Estate will not trouble you further." Zhu Yan studied Ye Li and asked, "Aren’t you afraid that once I leave, I might return to oppose the Mo Family Army again?"

Ye Li shook her head. "This junior believes in you, General."

Silence lingered on the tower for a long moment before Zhu Yan suddenly burst into hearty laughter. Shaking his head, he said, "I thank Princess Ding for her kindness. But alas... Zhu Yan was born the General Who Pacifies Heaven of Western Liang, and he will die as the General Who Pacifies Heaven of Western Liang! Today, defeated and ashamed to face the people of Western Liang and the late emperor, this life of mine is no longer worth keeping!"

"General..."Zhu Ling gazed calmly at the white-clad woman before him, his eyes carrying a faint trace of regret and helplessness. "It's just... such a pity..." He had raised his grandson himself—how could he not understand? When Ling'er had mentioned that woman named Yang Xianya to him, he had known she was someone special in his grandson's eyes. And now, he had finally seen the woman who could make his grandson look at her differently. But alas... fate plays cruel tricks...

"Old General Zhu?!" Amidst the stunned gazes of the crowd, the septuagenarian elder suddenly leaped forward and tumbled from the city wall. Ye Li took a step forward, her sleeve twitching slightly, but ultimately stopped in her tracks. The others rushed to the edge of the wall and looked down. At the city gate below, the old man lay motionless, blood slowly seeping from beneath him, staining the earth beneath and the white hair atop his head crimson.

Ye Li silently watched the lifeless elder below the wall, her eyes dim with sorrow.

"Wang Fei..." Feng Zhiyao asked with concern.

Ye Li turned away calmly and said, "Prepare his body. Give him a proper burial."

"As you command."