Mo Li

With the arrival of the Black Cloud Cavalry, the seemingly imminent victory gradually became elusive once more. The defenders of Chu Jing, who had been on the verge of collapse, suddenly seemed to regain their strength. Although the Northern Army still outnumbered Chu Jing's forces by more than tenfold, the narrow streets of the city rendered their numerical advantage useless. Moreover, the defending Chu troops knew the city far better than these Northern barbarians. Even if they couldn’t drive the Northern Army out of the city, it was impossible for the invaders to fully occupy Chu Jing anytime soon.

Feng Zhiyao stood atop the city gate tower, surveying the distant battle below. Gradually, he noticed large numbers of Northern troops abandoning their assault on the city defenders and instead charging wildly toward the western gate. A cold smile curled on his handsome face. "Trying to take the West Gate? Not so easy." Behind him, Yun Ting crossed his arms as he watched the swarming Northern soldiers. "Are they trying to capture the West Gate first to cut off the Mo Family Army’s entry route before dealing with the defenders inside?"

Feng Zhiyao chuckled. "No need to worry. Before leaving, Wang Ye gave me some interesting toys. Though..." He frowned slightly in hesitation. "They might be a bit dangerous to use within the city..." Yun Ting, however, had no such reservations. "At this point, why hesitate? If they really charge at us, our small force won’t stand a chance."

Feng Zhiyao stroked his chin and nodded. "You’re right! Honestly, I’m not even sure how effective those things are. Hey, you—take your men and block those bastards." He turned and beckoned to a Qilin squad leader who had accompanied them. The Qilin troops had been itching to use these weapons for some time but had never gotten the chance. At Feng Zhiyao’s command, the squad leader waved his hand, and a team of Qilin soldiers immediately descended the tower, each carrying a rectangular box.

In the city, Northern soldiers under Ren Qining’s orders surged toward the West Gate tower. But just as they caught sight of the gate in the distance, a deafening explosion erupted on the street, followed by a series of thunderous blasts. Before the Northern Army could even comprehend what was happening, they were thrown into chaos—bodies torn apart, limbs flying. If these had been Central Plains soldiers, they might have recognized the effects of fireworks or firecrackers. But the Northern barbarians, who had lived little better than primitive tribes before Ren Qining unified the region, had never witnessed such earth-shattering explosions or destructive power. Many Northern soldiers, terrified, believed they had angered the heavens and that divine thunder had struck them down. Those not killed outright were so frightened that half of them dropped to their knees, too petrified to move. Uncivilized peoples often feared the wrath of nature far more than the people of the Central Plains.After the round of explosions, the entire street was filled with the smell of gunpowder, and the ground was littered with soldiers torn apart by the blasts. On the city tower not far away, Yun Ting stared in shock, stammering, "Th-this thing was given to you by Wang Ye?" It was simply too terrifying. He had seen clearly how the Qilin operatives had hidden something along the street. The moment the Northern soldiers entered, this was the result. If Ye Li had been present, she would have thought the effect rather underwhelming. The secret Imperial Tomb had been researching for years, yet the best they could produce couldn't even compare to the earliest hand grenades, let alone something as potent as TNT, where a single pound could demolish a six- or seven-story building. As for the firearms developed in the Underground Palace of the Imperial Tomb, Ye Li couldn't even be bothered to bring them out. Their range and accuracy were inferior to bows and arrows. They would need another four or five generations of improvements before they were usable. But for people of this era, who were still playing with fireworks and firecrackers, the effect was horrifying enough.

Feng Zhiyao nodded expressionlessly, masking his own shock. Inwardly, he cursed Mo Xiuyao—if they had such a devastating weapon, why hadn't they brought it out sooner?

In truth, this was entirely unfair to Mo Xiuyao. These items were all handmade, with no assembly line to speak of. Producing seven or eight in a month was already considered high output, and their lethality wasn't particularly impressive. The earth-shattering destruction on the street just now had required the Qilin operatives to plant no fewer than a hundred of these devices along both sides of the road. Given how inconvenient they were to carry, how costly they were to produce, and how ineffective they were in open spaces—where one might not even kill three people—Mo Xiuyao had no immediate plans to deploy them widely on the battlefield. The Northern soldiers were simply unlucky, crammed into such a narrow street—who else would they blow up if not them?

The Northerners weren't completely witless. Soon, someone reacted, shouting fiercely, "This is a trick by the Central Plains people! Don't be afraid! Charge and kill them!" The Northerners were, after all, a fierce and courageous lot. With someone leading the way, they quickly scrambled to their feet, howling as they charged forward. The Qilin operatives on the rooftops on either side were unsurprised. With savage grins, they hurled black objects downward. The black spheres landed and, after a brief moment of stunned hesitation from the Northern soldiers, exploded violently. Those closest were inevitably sent flying.

Then another deafening series of explosions erupted on the street, mingled with the cries of the Northerners. By the time the explosions ceased, the surviving Northern soldiers could endure no more. They threw down their weapons and fled in disarray.

The violent explosions in the western part of the city were heard not just by everyone in Chu Jing but even by Ren Qining outside the city walls. His eyes turned cold as he demanded, "What is happening?"

Soon, someone stumbled out from the city to report, "Your Majesty, the Mo Family Army possesses demonic weapons! Our soldiers have suffered heavy casualties!"

Ren Qining's face darkened with fury. "I would very much like to know what kind of demonic weapon could be so powerful!"The reporting soldier trembled as he spoke, "The troops couldn't see what it was at all—only heard earth-shattering explosions. Then many were left dead, covered in blood."

"You mean to say you didn't even catch a glimpse of the Mo Family Army?" Ren Qining asked. The soldier hesitated before nodding. Indeed, they hadn't seen any trace of the Mo Family Army.

"Nonsense! I don't care what sorcery the Mo Family Army has. Take the West Gate within the hour, or else!"

The soldier wavered before replying, "But... many soldiers say it's divine punishment, that heavenly thunder struck them. They're too afraid to advance..." Ren Qining sneered, "Heavenly thunder? Under clear skies for thousands of miles? If there were heavenly thunder, it should strike me first! Pass the order—if the West Gate isn't taken within the hour, the commanding officer will answer with his head!"

"Yes!"

Watching the terrified messenger depart, Ren Qining's ashen face twisted further into fury. Heavenly thunder? Absurd! Mo Xiuyao... so you've truly obtained the ancestral treasure, haven't you? Unlike Tan Jizhi, Ren Qining had grown up in a genuine reclusive noble family. Those who taught him were all former loyalists of the fallen dynasty, and he had access to rare, even unique, historical records—some of which contained cryptic notes from the founding emperor himself. At the time, Ren Qining hadn't paid them much mind, as the emperor had conquered the realm without relying on such things, and subsequent rulers had never wielded any legendary weapons. But now, recalling the rumors of the dynasty's treasure in the northwest years ago, everything clicked. Back then, he had been busy suppressing rebellious northern tribes but still sent men to investigate—only to find nothing, with all treasure-seekers returning empty-handed. Yet it turned out Mo Xiuyao had secretly claimed it.

"Impressive, Mo Xiuyao! Let's see just how formidable you are!" Ren Qining gritted his teeth with a cold snarl.

The battle in the city raged from dusk into night. The capital, usually silent by now, blazed with light and echoed with the clamor of combat. At the West Gate, Feng Zhiyao and Yun Ting stood ready. Yun Ting frowned at the distant flames. "If reinforcements don't arrive soon, we might not hold out." Feng Zhiyao replied firmly, "Wang Ye said they'd come—trust in that. As long as the West Gate stays out of northern hands, once the Mo Family Army enters the city, all will be resolved." Though he spoke confidently, Feng Zhiyao knew the difficulties. Their advance had faced relentless assaults from the Northern Rong forces—reaching Chu Jing this quickly was already a feat. Moreover, the Black Cloud Cavalry moved several times faster than infantry; expecting the main army to arrive within an hour or two was near impossible.

Yun Ting wasn't one for undue worry either. He exhaled. "You're right. Whatever happens, we'll hold the West Gate!""Feng San!" Leng Haoyu, covered in blood, rushed over from nearby. His wounds had multiplied since they last parted. "When the hell is the main army arriving?!" he snapped upon seeing Feng Zhiyao. Rolling his eyes, Feng Zhiyao still reached out to steady him. "They'll come when they can. Do you think our journey here was easy? That madman Yelv Ye mobilized nearly all the Northern Rong troops within Great Chu to intercept us."

Leng Haoyu leaned against the city wall, panting helplessly. "If Wang Ye doesn't arrive soon, we're truly done for."

"I know," Feng Zhiyao replied. Another half day's delay would not only break the city's defenders but likely himself as well. Though the northern soldiers feared the minefields Qilin had laid in the streets, several waves had already attempted forced breakthroughs. While repelled, another assault would inevitably lead to close combat. Having exhausted their supply of bombs, Qilin had moved elsewhere to engage the enemy.

Yun Ting spoke up, "Brother Leng, rest here for a while. I'll go down." Hefting his spear, he turned toward the city gate tower stairs. Leng Haoyu grabbed his arm. "Don't. You and Feng San must hold the gate. I need to find someone." The city was embroiled in chaos, battles raging everywhere. Leng Huai and others had long been scattered. Chu Jing was no small city, making it extremely difficult to locate anyone under these circumstances—yet Leng Haoyu had no choice.

"But..." Yun Ting eyed Leng Haoyu's injuries worriedly. Leng Haoyu patted his shoulder with a grin. "Just flesh wounds, nothing serious. I'm off—"

"Wait!" Feng Zhiyao stopped him, his face suddenly alight with wild joy. "The army's here!"

As one, they turned to look. In the distance, a fiery dragon was rapidly approaching. At first flickering in and out of sight, it soon became clearly visible. The thunder of approaching hooves grew unmistakable. "The army's arrived! Open the gates!" Feng Zhiyao shouted. Cheers erupted along the battlements.

The vanguard, as always, was the Black Cloud Cavalry. In the darkness, the black-clad riders stormed through the gates without pause, charging straight into the city to clash with the northern soldiers. Soon after, those on the walls spotted Mo Xiuyao—clad in white with silver hair—riding at the army's heart. "Wang Ye is here! Wang Ye is here!" Crimson fireworks bloomed anew in the night sky, and cheers and laughter rose once more through Chu Jing, where only bloodshed and slaughter had reigned.

On an eastern street, Wei Lin and a handful of soldiers were surrounded by a host of northern troops. Enemy corpses already littered the ground, yet more foes stood before them. Blood soaked through black garments, invisible in the night. With a cold sweep of his gaze across the hostile northern soldiers, Wei Lin smirked. His sword flashed, a crescent of icy light that painted the air crimson.Having fought relentlessly for an entire day, even Wei Lin was exhausted, let alone the ordinary soldiers around him. Soon, several soldiers by his side fell one after another. Wei Lin's eyes were bloodshot as he swiftly swung his sword and charged into the enemy ranks. Just as the northern border soldiers rejoiced at finally being able to eliminate this formidable opponent, a group of soldiers dressed entirely differently from those of Chu Jing and the northern border army surged toward them. Leading them was a tall, stern-faced man with striking features. In his hand gleamed the icy blade of the Qingshuang sword, and wherever he went, northern border soldiers who couldn’t evade in time fell beneath its deadly edge.

With the addition of this fresh force, the tide of battle instantly turned.

"Who are you?!" the leader of the northern border soldiers roared in frustration.

The man on horseback swept a proud glance over him and, without hesitation, swung his sword. "I am General He Su!"

"Big brother..." Wei Lin stared in astonishment at the man in military attire before him—none other than An Yi, whom he hadn’t seen in years. An Yi, now He Su, strode forward and steadied Wei Lin with a smile. "Little Four, it’s been so long. How have you all been?" Wei Lin nodded. "We’ve been well. But ever since Wang Fei sent you away on a mission, you never returned..." Though they knew An Yi had been dispatched by Wang Fei, they had no idea what the mission entailed. Over the years, they had secretly worried for him, never expecting that upon their reunion, he would have become a general leading troops into battle.

He Su chuckled. "Wang Fei once said that compared to other roles, I was more suited for leading soldiers in war. So she had me enlist anonymously under General Murong as a common soldier. After moving from place to place, all these years later, I’ve finally lived up to her expectations."

"Congratulations, big brother." As fellow brothers who had once served as shadow guards under Wang Fei, Wei Lin was genuinely happy for He Su’s achievements.

He Su smiled. "I’ve heard you’ve all been doing well too. Wang Ye has already led the main army into the city. You’re badly injured—go rest in the western part of the city first." Though Wei Lin’s black attire concealed his wounds, He Su was no ordinary man and could tell from his pallor that his injuries were severe. After ordering a few soldiers to escort Wei Lin to the western district, He Su led his own troops deeper into the city to clear out the remaining northern border forces.

By dawn, the sounds of battle in the city had gradually subsided, though skirmishes still persisted in some smaller areas. Soldiers of the Mo Family Army continued to comb through streets and alleys, searching for any remaining northern border troops and tending to the wounded of Chu Jing.

As the sky lightened, Mo Xiuyao stood atop the northern city wall of Chu Jing with his officers, gazing down at the distant encampment of the northern border army. Though tens of thousands of enemy soldiers still lay outside the city, the Mo Family Army paid them no heed. After this battle, the northern border forces had not only failed to capture Chu Jing but had also suffered countless casualties. Even if their numbers remained, their morale had undoubtedly plummeted by more than one level.Just after a bloody battle, it seemed as though the heavens themselves had taken on a touch of sorrow. As dawn broke, a light snow began to drift down from the sky. Mo Xiuyao, clad in white and without a cloak, stood atop the city wall amidst the falling snowflakes. From below, he appeared like a celestial deity gazing down upon the mortal world. Even from such a great distance, Ren Qining and the northern generals could feel an indescribable pressure emanating from him.

"Wang Ye, we've found Huaguogong!" a guard hurriedly reported.

Mo Xiuyao turned and asked, "Where is he?"

The guard hesitated before replying, "Huaguogong is in the southern part of the city, severely wounded. I fear he might..." The implication hung heavy in the air, and everyone understood what the guard left unsaid. After a moment of silence, Mo Xiuyao said, "This prince will go see him. General Lü, you are in charge here." Lü Songxian nodded silently without another word.

Huaguogong was found in a narrow alley in the southern part of the city. When the Mo Family Army soldiers discovered him, he was already gravely injured and unable to move. Around him lay the bodies of soldiers from both the northern forces and Great Chu. A sword was still embedded in his body, its blade not yet withdrawn. He sat alone on a stone bench near the alley's entrance, resting. The winter nights in Chu Jing were no warmer than those in the northwest, and Huaguogong, already in his late seventies, was an elderly man. His face had turned pale from the severe injury.

"Old Duke!" Mo Xiuyao stepped forward to support Huaguogong. Glancing at the nearby medic, he demanded, "What's going on? Why hasn't the Duke's wound been treated?"

Huaguogong raised his hand to stop Mo Xiuyao and shook his head weakly. "No need. I know my own injuries. It's too late..."

Mo Xiuyao examined the sword wound closely, his expression darkening. The injury was fatal—perhaps a younger man might have had a slim chance, but for Huaguogong in his current state, removing the sword would likely end his life instantly. Closing his eyes briefly, Mo Xiuyao said softly, "Old Duke, we arrived too late."

Huaguogong shook his head again and managed a faint smile as he looked at Mo Xiuyao. "I know you've had your struggles too. To arrive... in time and prevent Chu Jing from falling into northern hands... is enough..."

Mo Xiuyao lowered his gaze in thought. With one hand supporting Huaguogong's shoulder, he channeled his inner energy to sustain the old man's life while ordering, "Find the Hua family members." A guard nearby quickly reported, "We've already sent for them. If the Hua family is unharmed, they should arrive soon."

Hearing this, a faint smile touched Huaguogong's lips. He asked weakly, "Is Tianxiang... well?"

Mo Xiuyao replied solemnly, "She is well. She is set to marry Qingfeng in a few months. Qingfeng, come here!"

Xu Qingfeng hurried forward and bowed respectfully. "Old Duke..." Huaguogong lifted his head with difficulty to look at him and smiled. "The children of the Xu Family... are all good children. Good... I won't live to see your wedding. In the future... treat Tianxiang well." Xu Qingfeng's eyes reddened, and he nodded repeatedly. "Yes, Old Duke... Grandfather..."

"Good child..."

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the alley as a young man rushed toward them, calling out frantically, "Grandfather! Grandfather..."

Huaguogong lifted his head to look at him one last time, a glimmer of relief in his eyes, before slowly closing them forever."Grandfather?!" The young man arrived just in time to see Duke Hua close his eyes with a faint smile. He immediately fell to his knees and broke into loud sobs. Beside him, Mo Xiuyao's eyes darkened with sorrow as he slowly withdrew his hand from Duke Hua's shoulder. In a solemn voice, he commanded, "Duke Hua gave his life for the nation, fighting valiantly to the end. Arrange a burial with the rites of a prince and posthumously confer upon him the title 'Marquis of Loyalty and Trust.'"

"Your subordinate obeys."

Across many parts of the capital, similar scenes of grief unfolded. Countless lives were lost in this battle—not only the defenders of Chu Jing but also soldiers of the Black Cloud Cavalry and the Mo Family Army. Among the fallen were not just ordinary troops but also numerous high-ranking officers. In another location, Leng Haoyu, barely holding himself up despite severe injuries, gazed at the figure lying on the ground with an indescribable complexity in his eyes. Leng Huai knelt on the ground, cradling the lifeless body of his eldest son. By the time they found Leng Qingyu, he was already gone—an arrow had pierced his chest, striking a fatal blow. This stern, proud man, who had always refused to acknowledge that his younger half-brother surpassed him, had silently fallen on the streets of Chu Jing, leaving behind no final words.

Leng Huai clung to his son's cold body, tears streaming down his aged face. No matter what, this had been his most beloved son, the one in whom he had placed his greatest hopes. The pain of losing a child was more unbearable than death itself.

Leng Haoyu silently stepped forward, crouching beside Leng Huai and speaking softly, "Father, let's take elder brother back first." In the end, the equally proud Leng Haoyu finally acknowledged that this man was indeed his elder brother.

Leng Huai turned to look at Leng Haoyu, his gaze falling on the wound on his chest, and asked, "How bad is the injury?"

Leng Haoyu replied, "Just a flesh wound, Father. Let's go back."

Leng Huai nodded, then with some effort, lifted Leng Qingyu and walked with Leng Haoyu toward the Leng residence.

－－－－－－Author's Note－－－－－－

Ahhh~ The latter half of this chapter feels so heavy. Why did I have to write it this way?! But my heart told me it had to be done. Duke Hua ultimately met his end in my writing—though I had hoped to save him, he still died. Because I couldn't imagine how else it could be. Could he follow Prince Ding's Estate, receive titles and honors? That didn’t feel right. Yet, given his relationship with Prince Ding's Estate, he couldn’t oppose Mo Xiuyao either, leaving only retirement as an option. But for a renowned general, I felt it was better to die on the battlefield, preserving his legacy both in life and death. Duke Hua died fighting for Great Chu and its people, not for Prince Ding's Estate.

Though I don’t advocate blind loyalty, I can’t deny my admiration for those who embody a touch of it. That’s why I wrote the deaths of Longyang, General Zhu, and now Duke Hua.

There’s nothing wrong with "a fine bird chooses the best tree to perch on," but if everyone were to do so, it would leave one feeling rather disheartened...