Mo Li

Inside the Northern Rong command tent, Yelv Ye and Helian Zhen sat in silence. Helian Zhen wore a grave expression, while Yelv Ye paced restlessly, his sword-like brows furrowed, his face betraying traces of anxiety and unease.

After circling the tent countless times, Yelv Ye finally stopped and turned to Helian Zhen. "Uncle, do you think General Helian might be in trouble?" Helian Zhen steadied himself and replied in a low voice, "Your Highness, remain calm. We’ve received no ill news from Peng’er yet. We mustn’t panic prematurely."

Yelv Ye nodded but remained silent for a long moment before murmuring, "I don’t know why, but I can’t shake this sense of foreboding."

Helian Zhen said nothing, unsure whether it was excessive worry or genuine intuition. It wasn’t just Yelv Ye who felt uneasy—Helian Zhen, too, sensed something amiss.

After a pause, Helian Zhen stood. "I’ll send more scouts to investigate."

Perhaps sharing the same ominous feeling, Yelv Ye nodded. "Dispatch more men, Uncle. Whatever news they find, have them report back immediately."

"Yes," Helian Zhen acknowledged before turning and striding out of the tent.

The moment he stepped outside, a flaming arrow shot into the Northern Rong camp from beyond the perimeter, landing squarely on a tent. Though it was deep winter and many tents were coated in frost, preventing immediate flames, the sudden attack startled the soldiers. Helian Zhen froze for only a second before bellowing, "Enemy attack!"

Yelv Ye, still inside the tent, rushed out at the shout. "What’s happening?!" Helian Zhen’s eyes burned with fury. "The Mo Family Army is outside our camp! Defend the camp!"

That single flaming arrow sent the Northern Rong camp into chaos. Moments later, the deep blare of war horns echoed through the camp. Soldiers grabbed their weapons and surged out of their tents, ready to fight. But the moment the first wave of warriors appeared at the camp gates, they were met with a storm of arrows. In the darkness, the enemy remained unseen, and the arrows were upon them before they could react.

"It’s the Mo Family Army!" someone shouted.

The Northern Rong camp descended into pandemonium. Helian Zhen, seething with rage, barked orders at his generals to rally their troops.

Not far beyond the camp, Mo Xiuyao and Ye Li sat astride their horses side by side, flanked by Feng Zhiyao in his crimson robes, Zhuo Jing, Lin Han, and others. Watching the Northern Rong army caught off guard by the Mo Family Army’s assault, their spirits soared.

Mo Xiaobao, nestled in front of Mo Xiuyao and wrapped in a voluminous battle cloak, peeked out with only his small head visible. His bright, lively eyes gleamed as he watched the distant Northern Rong camp, now ablaze with fire and echoing with battle cries, clearly enthralled by the spectacle.

After days of attrition, the Northern Rong forces were already nearly matched in numbers by the Mo Family Army. Now, with most of their troops led away by He Lianpeng, the Northern Rong army was outnumbered. The sudden ambush sent them into a complete rout. Within half an hour, the tide of battle had turned decisively in favor of the Mo Family Army.Helian Zhen, supported by his personal guards, helped Yelv Ye retreat while fighting. Turning back, he said to Yelv Ye, "Your Highness, we've been deceived. I fear Peng'er won't make it back in time. Let's withdraw first!"

"Withdraw?! Where can we withdraw to?" Yelv Ye's face darkened. This wasn't just angry talk—their current position was less than two hundred li from the Northern Rong border. Any further retreat would mean truly withdrawing into Northern Rong territory. It would signify that this two-to-three-year-long, grandly initiated campaign against Great Chu would end in the most humiliating defeat.

Naturally, Yelv Ye was unwilling, but the current situation left him no choice. Either retreat or fight to the death while waiting for Helian Peng's return. But regardless of whether Helian Peng could return, the cost of a desperate battle was more than Yelv Ye was willing to bear. Glaring fiercely in the direction of the Mo Family Army's commander, Yelv Ye spat through gritted teeth, "Retreat!"

The horn signaling retreat sounded in the dark night, and the already demoralized Northern Rong soldiers immediately surged like a tide, following Yelv Ye's retreat. Though the Mo Family Army pursued, they didn't press too closely, maintaining a steady, unhurried pace. Helian Zhen sensed something amiss, but the situation left only two paths: move forward or turn back. Naturally, they couldn't turn back to clash head-on with the Mo Family Army, so forward was the only option.

Meanwhile, Helian Peng, trapped by the Qilin, finally broke free after an hour. By the time he regrouped his forces and fought his way out of Yun Ting's encirclement, the eastern sky was already tinged with the faint light of dawn.

Behind them, Yun Ting and the others watched the retreating Northern Rong army with a faint smile. One of the Qilin grumbled, "Why didn't we kill him? Why let him go?" Though Helian Peng's martial prowess was formidable, to the Qilin—who had faced many skilled opponents and were well-trained—he wasn't the most challenging. Taking his life was only a matter of time.

Xu Qingfeng tapped his subordinate's forehead. "Since Wang Ye gave the order, he must have his reasons. Let's go, or we'll miss the excitement."

The others agreed in unison. After a quick cleanup, they set off in pursuit of Helian Peng's retreating army.

By the time Helian Peng reunited with Yelv Ye and the others, the sky was fully bright. Thick morning fog had nearly caused them to mistake each other for enemies, but they managed to regroup safely.

Staying in unfamiliar terrain amid dense fog was unsafe, but the Northern Rong soldiers, exhausted from the night's battles, could go no further. Helian Zhen found an open area for a brief rest. A headcount left the three commanders pale—what remained of their once-mighty force of hundreds of thousands had dwindled to less than two hundred thousand overnight. Nearly ninety percent of these were the troops Helian Peng had brought back. The original garrison had been almost entirely wiped out.Helian Zhen glanced desolately at Yelv Ye, who was lost in thought beside him, then turned to He Lianpeng and asked, "Peng'er, how did you find us?" He Lianpeng furrowed his brows and replied solemnly, "After breaking through Yun Ting's forces, I encountered four or five waves of the Mo Family Army blocking my path. Fighting my way through, I happened to come across you and His Highness."

Helian Zhen's thick brows knitted together as he said gravely, "That doesn't make sense... We've been running ahead with the Mo Family Army chasing behind us. Even if we got lost, the general direction couldn't have been too far off. How could you, being pursued all the way, just happen to run into us?"

He Lianpeng's heart skipped a beat, and he suddenly leaped to his feet, exclaiming, "Father!"

Helian Zhen looked at him. He Lianpeng's expression darkened as he gritted his teeth and said, "We've fallen into Mo Xiuyao's trap!" Helian Zhen froze, his face paling as he grabbed He Lianpeng urgently. "You mean—"

"Haha, General Helian, isn't it a bit late to realize this now?" A low, amused laugh drifted through the thick fog from afar. The voice had seemed distant at first, but by the time the words trailed off, it felt as though the speaker had already arrived nearby. Helian Zhen and the others turned toward the sound and saw a figure clad in white robes with silver hair standing abruptly where the mist had parted. Though his expression was obscured by the faint haze, both He Lianpeng and Helian Zhen could clearly sense that he was smiling—a chilling smile.

"Mo... Xiu... Yao!" Helian Zhen ground out between clenched teeth.

"Indeed, it is I," Mo Xiuyao replied, his white robes fluttering wildly in the cold wind, his silver hair dancing unrestrained. A faint smile curled at his lips, but the words he spoke carried an inexplicable, bone-chilling killing intent. "After nineteen years, inviting General Helian to a reunion at Huifeng Valley was no easy feat."

"This is Huifeng Valley?!" Helian Zhen gasped in shock.

Mo Xiuyao chuckled. "Indeed. I hadn't expected General Helian to forget in less than twenty years. Though... I imagine Ghost Sorrow Valley must still be fresh in your memory. Pity we couldn't host you there this time." Huifeng Valley was where the Mo Family Army had been ambushed and annihilated by Helian Zhen's schemes years ago. It was also not far from where the previous Prince Ding, Mo Xiuwen, had met his end. Ghost Sorrow Valley, less than fifty li from Huifeng Valley, was where Mo Xiuyao had once set a devastating fire that crushed Helian Zhen's forces—though Mo Xiuyao himself had suffered grievous injuries in the process. Both locations were unforgettable to anyone who had fought in those battles.

As Mo Xiuyao spoke, countless Mo Family Army soldiers emerged from all directions, their shadowy figures flickering ominously in the mist like wraiths from the underworld. The exhausted and starving Northern Rong soldiers below were terrified out of their wits.

Gradually, several figures appeared behind Mo Xiuyao—Ye Li and Yun Ting in white, Third Master Feng in red, Xu Qingfeng, Zhuo Jing, and Lin Han in black—all glaring fiercely at the Northern Rong soldiers below. Only Mo Xiaobao, dressed in black brocade beside Ye Li, seemed full of energy despite having stayed up all night. His round, curious eyes studied the people below, and after glancing at the solemn faces around him, he tugged playfully at Feng Zhiyao's sleeve.Feng Zhiyao subtly shook his head at Mo Xiaobao and gave a meaningful glance toward Mo Xiuyao’s direction. Mo Xiaobao pouted slightly and quietly sidled up to Mo Xiuyao. “Father…”

Mo Xiuyao smiled faintly, bent down, and scooped Mo Xiaobao into his arms. “Yu Chen, do you know what this place is?”

This was the first time Mo Xiuyao had called him by his formal name so seriously. Mo Xiaobao blinked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “Father, what is this place?”

“This… is where the martyrs of the Mo Family Army and your uncle were laid to rest,” Mo Xiuyao said solemnly.

Mo Xiaobao blinked again. Though young, he had naturally been taught about the history of the Mo Family Army and Prince Ding’s Estate. He knew that his father deeply revered an uncle who had been killed by the Northern Rong people. Occasionally, Mo Xiaobao had even secretly wondered—if his uncle were still alive, would there be someone else to stand up for him when his father teased him?

“Father, are we going to avenge Uncle?” Mo Xiaobao asked, his large eyes wide.

“Indeed,” Mo Xiuyao replied gravely.

The people behind Mo Xiuyao, including Feng Zhiyao, couldn’t help but glance at Ye Li. The Little Prince wasn’t even eight years old yet—wasn’t exposing him to such a scene a bit too cruel? Ye Li sighed helplessly. Looking at Mo Xiaobao’s eager expression, he certainly didn’t seem frightened. Deep down, Ye Li worried that her well-behaved son might be led astray by Mo Xiuyao’s influence. But no matter how close Mo Xiaobao was to her, boys naturally tended to follow their fathers in certain matters—like now.

Amid the Northern Rong army, Yelv Ye stepped forward, his face dark with fury as he glared at Mo Xiuyao in the distance. “Prince Ding, what skillful patience you have!” By now, Yelv Ye fully understood—Mo Xiuyao had been toying with them all along. His ultimate goal was to drive the Northern Rong army into Huifeng Valley, to avenge the ambush that had killed Mo Xiuwen here years ago.

Mo Xiuyao smiled faintly and nodded. “You flatter me. In any case, even if the Seventh Prince leads his battered troops back to Northern Rong now, you’d stand no chance against Crown Prince Yelv. It’s better to perish in Huifeng Valley—at least it preserves your reputation. You should be thanking me.”

Yelv Ye’s expression twisted. Even ants cling to life, let alone humans. He wasn’t afraid of death, but he absolutely refused to die like this. Yet he also knew their fate was no longer in his hands. With hundreds of thousands of Mo Family Army soldiers surrounding them, his remaining force of less than two hundred thousand stood no chance of breaking through. A single command from Mo Xiuyao, and a rain of arrows would bury the Northern Rong army in an instant.

Helian Zhen stood pale and silent. Beside Yelv Ye, He Lianpeng’s gaze was fixed like an arrow on Ye Li beside Mo Xiuyao.

“I am He Lianpeng,” he suddenly declared, stepping forward. “I challenge Princess Ding to a duel!”

The gazes of the Mo Family Army generals instantly locked onto He Lianpeng as if he were an utter fool. Challenging Princess Ding in front of Prince Ding—this man must truly be insane.Sure enough, Mo Xiuyao let out a cold laugh and said indifferently, "General He Lian, why not challenge this prince instead? Do you look down on me?" He Lianpeng glanced at Mo Xiuyao but did not respond, his gaze fixed intently on Ye Li.

Ye Li smiled faintly and stepped forward, saying, "Since General He Lian is so eager, this consort naturally won’t decline. Please." Although Ye Li held no fondness for He Lianpeng, as a general of a nation, he surely knew that publicly challenging a woman—regardless of the outcome—was hardly a dignified act. Yet, despite knowing it would likely cost him his life, he persisted, which at least proved he truly regarded Ye Li as a worthy opponent.

"A Li," Mo Xiuyao frowned slightly. Ye Li’s inner energy was far inferior to He Lianpeng’s. Though he was confident she wouldn’t be in mortal danger with him present, he couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t be injured at all.

Ye Li shook her head with a smile. "It’ll be fine."

She took a few steps forward, a flash of silver light flickering in her sleeve as a gleaming dagger appeared in her palm. Opposite her, He Lianpeng wielded his usual longsword. Just the sight of their weapons made it clear how uneven the match was.

Without hesitation, He Lianpeng thrust his sword forward in a sweeping slash toward Ye Li. She sidestepped lightly, evading the strike, her white figure darting toward him like a swift swan. Amid the faint mist, the onlookers could only see two figures weaving in and out, the clashing of weapons ringing incessantly.

Ye Li frowned slightly as she fought. In terms of strength and inner energy, she was no match for He Lianpeng. After several clashes between her dagger and his sword, her right hand was already numb from the impact. She quickly abandoned direct confrontation, closing the distance to engage in close combat. This rendered He Lianpeng’s longsword ineffective. He tried repeatedly to create distance but failed each time. In close-quarters combat, few in the world could rival Ye Li. Without relying on inner energy, even Mo Xiuyao might struggle to gain an advantage. Thus, for the moment, the two were evenly matched.

After nearly a hundred exchanges, neither had gained the upper hand. He Lianpeng’s eyes darkened as he channeled a surge of inner energy into his palm and struck toward Ye Li. But Ye Li was quicker. A sharp blade slid from her left sleeve, and without hesitation, she stabbed toward He Lianpeng’s abdomen while twisting aside to evade his palm strike.

He Lianpeng, intent on dealing a heavy blow to Ye Li, ignored the dagger aimed at him. As pain flared in his abdomen, his palm strike landed on Ye Li. Though she dodged partially, she still suffered a minor internal injury. She withdrew the dagger and retreated swiftly.

The moment Ye Li pulled the dagger free, He Lianpeng knew it was bad. Her dagger was specially crafted with a blood groove—once it pierced flesh, the wound would bleed profusely. The last time he had been injured on the arm, it had taken him a long time to recover. This time, with a wound to the abdomen, the consequences were even more dire. But He Lianpeng knew he had no chance of surviving in Mo Xiuyao’s hands. If he could kill or severely injure Ye Li, what did it matter if he bled to death?

Ye Li retreated to a safe distance and stood firm, a trickle of crimson blood seeping from the corner of her lips. Watching He Lianpeng brace himself with his sword, blood gushing from his abdomen, she wiped the blood from her mouth and said calmly, "General He Lian, I concede to your skill."Helian Peng let out a cold laugh and unexpectedly threw aside his long blade, lunging straight at Ye Li. A glint flashed in Ye Li's eyes as the short dagger in her right hand gleamed like a white arc, slicing past Helian Peng. The two crossed paths for only a brief moment before separating again. As Ye Li turned back, Helian Peng had already collapsed silently, a thin crimson line slowly blooming across his throat.

"Peng'er!" Helian Zhen cried out hoarsely. Though Helian Peng was merely his adopted son, he had raised him from childhood. Moreover, Helian Zhen had no heirs of his own, making Helian Peng no different from a biological son. In this world, aside from Yelv Ye, there was no one Helian Zhen valued more than Helian Peng. Seeing him die at Ye Li's hands filled him with unbearable grief. He threw himself over Helian Peng's body, weeping bitterly before lifting his head to glare furiously at Ye Li.

Ye Li casually wiped the blood from her dagger and returned to Mo Xiuyao's side. Only after confirming her injuries were not serious did Mo Xiuyao relax.

At the very first encounter, the Northern Rong army had lost its strongest warrior, Helian Peng, further crushing their already low morale. Yelv Ye looked around at his disheartened soldiers and let out a bitter, helpless smile. By now, the surrounding mist had begun to dissipate, revealing the dark masses of the Mo Family Army encircling them on all sides. In such a situation, breaking through was impossible—any reckless move would be met with swift retaliation.

"This prince admits defeat. What does Prince Ding intend to do?" Yelv Ye closed his eyes and spoke coldly.

Mo Xiuyao smiled faintly. "What this prince intends, General Helian surely knows already?"

At these words, Helian Zhen's face paled. "Mo Xiuyao! You—" Unbidden, he recalled the two great fires nineteen years ago. One had been in Huifeng Valley—right here—where he had watched countless Mo Family Army soldiers perish in the flames. The other had been in Ghost Sorrow Valley, where both the Mo Family Army and Northern Rong had suffered devastating losses. Mo Xiuyao had been gravely wounded, nearly losing his life, while Northern Rong had been crippled, almost beyond recovery. But now... Mo Xiuyao actually intended to...

"Prince Ding, the Seventh Prince has already conceded!" Too proud to utter the word "surrender," Helian Zhen could only echo Yelv Ye's words.

"And what of it?" Mo Xiuyao arched a brow. "This prince has waited nineteen years for this day—to honor the souls of the Mo Family Army here in Huifeng Valley. So... whether you surrender or not, every single Bei Rong person who set foot in Great Chu must die!"

From this exchange, Yelv Ye understood Mo Xiuyao's intent all too clearly. He wanted to burn them all alive in Huifeng Valley as vengeance for the Mo Family Army unjustly slaughtered here over a decade ago. Yelv Ye's throat tightened painfully as he stepped forward and gritted his teeth. "Prince Ding, this prince has been defeated. My life is yours to take. But I beg you to spare these Northern Rong soldiers. They were merely following orders."

Behind Mo Xiuyao, Feng Zhiyao let out a cold laugh. "Prince Yelv, are you saying none of the men behind you slaughtered innocent civilians of the Central Plains?" Yelv Ye had no reply. The northern regions of Great Chu had been drenched in blood, most of it belonging to ordinary citizens. Entire villages had been left desolate. Under such circumstances, there was no room for excuses.

Mo Xiuyao smirked coldly and raised his hand. "Fire!"

The Mo Family Army nocked their arrows in unison, and in an instant, a deadly rain of arrows descended."Mo Xiuyao, you go too far!" Helian Zhen roared furiously. "Break through!"

Cornered beasts will still fight, let alone humans. Though exhausted, the Northern Rong soldiers had no choice but to struggle for survival at this critical moment. Their eyes nearly red with desperation, they charged toward the northern direction.

Watching the Northern Rong army's movements, Mo Xiuyao curled his lips into a cold smile. As Feng Zhiyao waved the small black flag in his hand, the Mo Family Army soldiers mercilessly counterattacked. Yet they deliberately left a faint gap in the northwest direction, allowing the remnants of the Northern Rong troops to pass through.

Mo Xiuyao and the others did not give chase. Instead, they stood calmly in place, gazing distantly in the direction where the remnants of the Northern Rong army had fled.

With a deafening "Boom!", the northwestern sky was instantly illuminated by a crimson glow that soon dyed nearly half the heavens red. Faintly, countless agonized screams and wails could be heard from the northwest, so harrowing they were almost unbearable to listen to.

Ye Li stood silently beside Mo Xiuyao, eventually closing her eyes in quiet sorrow as she covered Mo Xiaobao's ears with her hands. The restless child, however, kept tugging at her hands. Though the screams frightened him somewhat, he understood deep down that his father was avenging the fallen soldiers of the Mo Family Army and his uncle from years past. Children possess a naive yet ruthless sense of justice, seeing only absolute right and wrong. Since this was right, there was no need for fear—or even pity.

Feng Zhiyao silently watched the distant crimson blaze. He too had participated in that battle over a decade ago. Though he hadn't been present at Huifeng Valley, when he and Mo Xiuyao arrived, they had witnessed the tragic state of the soldiers who had perished there. No—they couldn't even be called fallen soldiers. They had died unjustly.

Like Mo Xiuyao, Feng Zhiyao had never forgotten over these nineteen years. Just as the wronged souls of the Mo Family Army had never rested in peace. Until now, when the lives of two hundred thousand Northern Rong troops would serve as offerings to their spirits.

May,

the departed finally find peace!

－－－－－－Author's Note－－－－－－

Happy New Year, my dears~ Last month, Feng reached 10th place on the monthly popularity rankings—an unprecedented achievement! So happy~ Thank you all for your support!