Mo Li

"It's... it's Mo Xiuyao... The scouts ahead reported seeing the royal banner of Prince Ding's Estate!"

"Mo Xiuyao?!" Lei Tengfeng spun around abruptly, accidentally knocking over the incense burner at his feet. He glared fiercely at the soldier who had brought the news and demanded, "Are you certain it's Mo Xiuyao?!"

The soldier hesitated, looking at the visibly shaken young master. He had only heard the report from the returning scouts—how could he be sure? After a moment, he replied cautiously, "The scouts confirmed they saw the royal banner of the Mo Family Army." The black and silver serpent royal banner of the Mo Family Army was only raised when Prince Ding personally led the troops.

Lei Tengfeng steadied himself before saying, "Bring the scout in. I want to question him myself."

"Yes."

Soon, the scout who had been observing the situation outside entered and bowed to Lei Tengfeng. "This subordinate greets the Young Master." Lei Tengfeng waved impatiently and urged, "Skip the formalities. You said you saw 800,000 troops of the Mo Family Army heading this way?"

The scout nodded. "Reporting to the Young Master, there’s no mistake. At least 800,000, possibly more. When I spotted them, they were still a hundred li away. Given their marching speed, by the time I rushed back on horseback... in at most another hour, their vanguard will likely join forces with the troops under Murong Shen and Marquis Nan."

Lei Tengfeng asked grimly, "You saw the royal banner of Prince Ding's Estate?"

"Yes, this subordinate definitely did not mistake it. That’s why I raced back as soon as I saw it," the scout affirmed. Lei Tengfeng waved him off. "Understood. You may leave."

"This subordinate takes his leave."

Once the scout had withdrawn, Lei Tengfeng slumped into his chair, murmuring in a daze, "Mo Xiuyao... How is Mo Xiuyao not dead?" General Yang watched him with concern and quickly interjected, "Young Master... Young Master, shouldn’t we inform His Highness immediately? He likely still doesn’t know." They had only received word of the Mo Family Army’s approach when they were nearly upon them, a testament to Prince Ding’s secrecy and the lightning speed of his movements. His Highness was probably still in the dark.

Snapped out of his stupor by General Yang’s reminder, Lei Tengfeng straightened. "Right... hurry! Send someone on horseback to deliver all this news to Father at once. As for us..." He took a deep breath. "We must hold off the Mo Family Army—at least... at least buy Father some time to react."

General Yang frowned disapprovingly. "Young Master, that’s unwise. Prince Ding’s forces now outnumber ours several times over. Once they merge with Murong Shen’s troops, Prince Ding’s army could exceed a million. By then..." By then, Prince Ding wouldn’t even need to fight—sheer numbers would crush them. After a pause, General Yang proposed, "This general is willing to stay and intercept Prince Ding. Please, Young Master, depart at once for His Highness’s camp."

"No!" Lei Tengfeng refused outright. Even if he was no match for Mo Xiuyao, he would never retreat without a fight.

General Yang pressed urgently, "Young Master, reconsider! Against Prince Ding, whether it’s just this general or both of us, the outcome will likely be the same. Why... why make such an unnecessary sacrifice? As long as His Highness and the Young Master remain, Western Liang still has a chance to turn the tide.""General Yang..." Lei Tengfeng sighed softly. As the heir of Zhennan Wang and, barring any unforeseen circumstances, the future ruler of Western Liang, how could he not understand the concept of sacrifice? Yet, given his character, the thought of abandoning his soldiers and fleeing the battlefield was an agonizing dilemma.

General Yang said resolutely, "Young Master, time is short. This humble general cannot guarantee how long we can hold off Prince Ding. Please depart swiftly!" Lei Tengfeng closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and bowed deeply to General Yang. "Lei Tengfeng has failed you, General. Please accept my bow." Both men knew all too well the fate that befell Western Liang and Northern Rong generals who fell into Mo Xiuyao's hands in recent years. General Yang's decision to stay meant certain death.

General Yang quickly steadied Lei Tengfeng. "You honor me too much, Young Master. As a general of Western Liang, dying for my country is my duty. Moreover... to face Prince Ding in battle, even death would be a worthy end. Please, go now."

Fleeing without even seeing the enemy was hardly honorable. Yet years of hard lessons told Lei Tengfeng that hesitation now might mean no escape later. More importantly, while he had the courage to die for his country, he could not abandon Zhennan Wang's legacy for momentary bravery. This battle, though devoid of bloodshed before his eyes, would haunt him for life.

On the mountain path not far from the Western Liang camp, Lei Tengfeng glanced back at the still-quiet barracks before hardening his heart. With a crack of his whip, he commanded, "Move out!" His guards and soldiers followed silently, unquestioning. Though they didn't understand their young master's sudden departure, as subordinates, obedience was their only path.

The group rode hard through the night, covering hundreds of miles to arrive by the fourth watch before dawn. Lei Zhenting was startled by his son's sudden appearance, knowing something grave must have occurred—Lei Tengfeng would never lightly abandon his post. Rising quickly, he found his son travel-worn, eyes bloodshot with exhaustion.

"Tengfeng, what happened?" Lei Zhenting frowned. Seeing his father, Lei Tengfeng stumbled forward to grasp his arm. "Father... Mo Xiuyao, Mo Xiuyao..."

Lei Zhenting's heart sank. Gripping his son's shoulders firmly, he ordered, "Calm yourself! Speak slowly..." Lei Tengfeng took a shuddering breath. "Father... Mo Xiuyao lives."

Though shaken, Lei Zhenting maintained composure. His son's distraught state at mentioning Mo Xiuyao had prepared him somewhat. Coolly, he asked, "So you fled because Mo Xiuyao isn't dead?"

His father's steadiness seemed to steady Lei Tengfeng. Closing his eyes briefly, his eyelid twitched as he reported, "Mo Xiuyao marches from Liyang with at least eight hundred thousand troops. Combined with Murong Shen and Marquis Nan's forces... Father, behind us stands a million-strong Mo Family Army."Lei Zhenting sighed softly and patted Lei Tengfeng on the shoulder, saying, "Your father understands. You did the right thing." Those two hundred thousand soldiers of the Western Liang Army could be sacrificed, General Yang could die, even he himself could perish—but not Lei Tengfeng. He was already old, while Teng Feng... was the future hope of Western Liang. Lei Tengfeng looked at Lei Zhenting with guilt in his eyes. He understood the reasoning, yet he couldn't help but feel ashamed of his own inadequacy. If only he had the ability to resist Mo Xiuyao, what difference would it make even if Mo Xiuyao had risen from the dead?

Seeing Lei Tengfeng gradually calm down, Lei Zhenting walked aside and sat down. The sudden resurrection of Mo Xiuyao had also been a significant shock to him, forcing him to reconsider everything. Mo Xiuyao would never have faked his death without reason, not even at the cost of abandoning all the early advantages the Mo Family Army had gained. At this point, Lei Zhenting could discern some clues. If the original situation had continued, it would have taken at least three to five years to determine a victor. Now, however... Mo Xiuyao's ploy of faking his death was clearly aimed at breaking this deadlock as quickly as possible. And it had proven highly effective—at the very least, Mo Jingli had likely already been dealt with. Otherwise, the Mo Family Army wouldn't have crossed Liyang so swiftly. And that nearly million-strong army... it must have originally belonged to Mo Jingli.

"That useless Mo Jingli! I overestimated him," Lei Zhenting said darkly.

"Father, Mo Jingli was never a match for Mo Xiuyao to begin with," Lei Tengfeng frowned. Lei Zhenting sneered, "A match?! If my guess is correct, that fool was taken out by Mo Xiuyao without even getting a chance to fight. Otherwise, where do you think Mo Xiuyao's several hundred thousand troops came from? Mo Xiuyao isn't a god. The northern regions have been ravaged by war for years, and the population is sparse. How could he possibly conjure up an army of seven to eight hundred thousand in such a short time?" An army isn't just any random group—it can't be made up of just anyone. It requires able-bodied young men who have undergone basic training. Otherwise, with so many people on the battlefield, chaos would ensue, and they'd end up trampling each other before the enemy even struck.

"Father, are you saying Mo Xiuyao's eight hundred thousand troops were taken from Mo Jingli?" Lei Tengfeng asked in shock.Lei Zhenting sneered coldly, "Are there any other possibilities? You just said... Murong Shen and Marquis Nan aren't in the army?" Lei Tengfeng nodded. Although he hadn't fully grasped the situation, connecting it with Mo Xiuyao's sudden appearance made him feel something was amiss. He reported every detail meticulously to Lei Zhenting.

Lei Zhenting frowned. Not just Lei Tengfeng, even he couldn't fathom where Marquis Nan and Murong Shen could have gone at this moment instead of waiting to rendezvous with Mo Xiuyao and return to Flying Goose Pass together. Since he couldn't figure it out, he decided to set it aside for now. After instructing his subordinate generals and advisors to monitor Mo Xiuyao, Mo Jingli, and the movements in Southern Chu, he refocused his attention on Flying Goose Pass.

At this point, given Mo Xiuyao's speed, retreat was no longer an option. Moreover, if they withdrew in such a humiliating manner, where would Western Liang's dignity be? If Mo Xiuyao pursued them relentlessly, it would only worsen Western Liang's position. Additionally, Lei Zhenting had a vague premonition—this would be the last time in his life he would face the Mo Family Army in battle.

At Flying Goose Pass, the Mo Family Army remained clad in mourning white, standing ready for battle. Below the pass, the Western Mausoleum Army loomed with an equally imposing and menacing presence.

On the city wall, Ye Li stood shoulder-to-shoulder with veteran General Yuan Pei, flanked by Feng Zhiyao, Leng Haoyu, Han Mingyue, Qin Feng, and others.

General Yuan Pei chuckled darkly, "It seems Lei Zhenting is determined to take Flying Goose Pass. Judging by this formation... he won't retreat unless he captures it."

Feng Zhiyao frowned. "What's gotten into Lei Zhenting? His injuries haven't even healed yet, have they?"

Ye Li nodded calmly. "It'll take at least two or three months for his wounds to recover."

"Look over there..." Han Mingyue raised a hand and pointed indifferently.

Following his gesture, the group saw a tall, armored figure standing beneath fluttering war banners at the rear of the army.

Feng Zhiyao's brows furrowed. "That's... Lei Tengfeng. Why is he here? Shouldn't he be dealing with General Murong and the others? Unless..."

Ye Li cut in firmly, "No. Lei Tengfeng alone can't handle Marquis Nan and General Murong working together. Lei Tengfeng looks unwell—something must have happened on their end."

Han Mingyue raised an eyebrow. "Wang Fei is so confident? If that's the case, why haven't General Murong and Marquis Nan returned yet?"

Ye Li frowned and shook her head. "I... don't know."

Han Mingxi rubbed his forehead and groaned, pointing downward. "I say, shouldn't we be more worried about the army below us? Over six hundred thousand soldiers... they could smash Flying Goose Pass open with rocks alone!"

General Yuan Pei shot him a displeased look. "What kind of talk is that, brat? As long as this old man draws breath, Flying Goose Pass will not fall!"

"Then you'd better live a long, long life," Han Mingxi replied with a wry smile.

While those on the city wall bantered lightheartedly, the mood among the Western Liang commanders below was far from pleasant. The sight of the vast sea of white robes—once a somber and mournful sight—now felt like a blatant mockery to them.

A hot-tempered Western Liang general spurred his horse forward, pointing his spear at the city wall and bellowed, "Men of the Mo Family Army! Come down and meet your deaths!"Above, Feng Zhiyao curled his lips and said, "It seems the Western Liang folks have all taken the wrong medicine today. Fine. This young master will entertain you." With a push of his right hand against the city wall, his flamboyant red robes fluttered as he descended directly from the battlements. On the battlefield, Feng Zhiyao stowed away his usual folding fan and brandished a long sword, thrusting toward the enemy general. This general was a renowned fierce warrior in the Western Liang army, bearing deep-seated blood feud with the Mo Family Army—his family had been among those slaughtered by Mo Xiuyao in the Western Mausoleum Imperial City. Seeing Feng Zhiyao charge, he raised his spear without hesitation and lunged straight at him. In the blink of an eye, the two had exchanged seven or eight moves, neither gaining the upper hand. Feng Zhiyao's thin lips curved slightly as he murmured softly, "Interesting. Let’s see what skills you have to dare order the Mo Family Army to their deaths."

"Wang Fei, no—" Suddenly, Yuan Pei, who had been observing the battle, narrowed his eyes and said gravely, "Call Feng San back at once!" But it was too late. Before his words faded, a volley of arrows rained down from the Western Liang army toward Feng Zhiyao. Those on the city wall gasped in shock, "Feng San?!" Though caught off guard, Feng Zhiyao remained composed. He dove forward, landing on the horse of the Western Liang general who had been trying to retreat from the fight. The general twisted to throw Feng off, only to feel a cold sting at his neck before tumbling from his steed. After killing the general, Feng Zhiyao wasted no time, darting back toward the city gate. In the final moment before the arrows struck, he hurled himself behind a makeshift barrier at the gate, narrowly escaping death.

Lying on the ground, Feng Zhiyao panted heavily, drenched in sweat. He had distinctly felt an arrow graze past his forehead—surviving such a sudden attack was nothing short of miraculous.

While catching his breath and silently cursing Lei Zhenting’s treachery, the two armies clashed. Soon, the city gates swung open, and countless Mo Family Army soldiers poured out. The Western Liang forces vastly outnumbered them; if they didn’t engage outside the walls, once Lei Zhenting committed to sacrificing lives to scale the walls relentlessly, Flying Goose Pass would inevitably fall. The best strategy was to prevent the Western Liang army from nearing the city walls, but this would exact a heavy toll on the Mo Family Army. How long they could hold out was uncertain. Yet now, they had no choice but to stand their ground to the death.

Once outside the city, the Mo Family Army was quickly encircled by the Western Liang forces. With fewer than 100,000 troops against over 600,000, the disparity was staggering. Though the Mo Family Army fought with unmatched ferocity, their odds against such overwhelming numbers were slim. Then, amidst the chaos, another group surged from the Western Liang ranks—all clad in yellow, even more ruthless and formidable than their regular soldiers. One-on-one, they surpassed even the Mo Family Army’s warriors. Within moments of their arrival, many Mo Family Army soldiers fell. Though their line of flesh and blood still held for now, prolonged fighting would inevitably lead to their defeat."It's the Gold-Clad Guards," Leng Haoyu said gravely. Similar to the shadow guards of Prince Ding's Estate and the Great Chu imperial family, the elite troops personally commanded by Lei Zhenting were known as the Gold-Clad Guards. That Lei Zhenting would deploy even his private guard—what could be considered his hidden trump card—made everyone sense not only his determination to breach Flying Goose Pass but also an underlying urgency.

"Qin Feng, how many Qilin members have been brought?" Ye Li asked solemnly.

Qin Feng replied, "Three squads remain in Li Cheng, two follow General Lü, one follows General Zhang, and the remaining six are all at Flying Goose Pass." Over the years, the Qilin had grown to about three thousand members, divided into twelve squads. Understanding the difficulty of defending Flying Goose Pass, Qin Feng had mobilized all available Qilin forces here for contingencies. Ye Li nodded. "Good. Four squads will intercept the Gold-Clad Guards. The remaining two... decapitation strike!"

"Understood!" Qin Feng responded with grave determination, saluting Ye Li before descending the city wall to assemble the troops.

Amid the chaotic battlefield, a group of black-clad figures appeared. The force of fewer than a thousand barely stood out among the similarly black-garbed Mo Family Army. But when they charged into enemy ranks, their terrifying offensive power became undeniable. The Mo Family Army soldiers, who had been struggling desperately against the Gold-Clad Guards, were separated, and the once formidable Gold-Clad Guards now seemed fragile and powerless in their hands. Their martial skills might not surpass those of the Gold-Clad Guards, but their methods were far more efficient, and unlike the arrogant Gold-Clad Guards, they excelled in teamwork. The previously unstoppable five thousand Gold-Clad Guards were swiftly divided into countless smaller groups and annihilated one by one when faced with just over a thousand Qilin members. Meanwhile, the other two squads charged relentlessly toward the rear of the Western Liang Army. Many fell behind or died along the way, but the survivors pressed forward without hesitation.

Lei Zhenting and Lei Tengfeng watched from horseback as the Qilin clashed with the Gold-Clad Guards in the distance. "So these are the Qilin?"

Lei Zhenting nodded grimly. Even amid the battlefield chaos, it was clear that his usually reliable Gold-Clad Guards were dwindling at an alarming rate under the Qilin's blades. "Loose arrows!" he commanded sharply. Such a terrifying force could not be allowed to exist. He pointed his whip and barked the order.

"Black Cloud Cavalry, loose arrows!" On the city wall, Ye Li issued the same command. In an instant, arrows rained down on the battlefield, inflicting heavy casualties on both the Mo Family Army and the Western Liang forces.

"Father, look there!" Lei Tengfeng exclaimed in shock and fury, pointing ahead.Lei Zhenting was taken aback as a mere five-hundred-man unit, like a black arrow, shot straight toward the heart of the Western Mausoleum Army. Amidst the battlefield of hundreds of thousands of Western Liang troops, they had carved a bloody path and were charging relentlessly in this direction.

Lei Tengfeng frowned and said, "They're trying to assassinate Father?! Quick, loose arrows!"

But it wouldn’t be so easy. The moment the first volley of arrows was released by the Western Liang forces, these men swiftly dispersed and merged into the enemy ranks. If they fired arrows now, they would only end up killing their own men—and given the skill of these assailants, most of the casualties would likely be their own. Yet, as soon as the danger passed, the attackers regrouped just as quickly, all the while maintaining their forward momentum. Upon closer inspection, one would notice that whether scattering or converging, they always maintained a precise formation.

"Father, you should retreat for now," Teng Feng urged anxiously. Under normal circumstances, he would never make such a suggestion, but his father was still severely injured and unable to fight. If these men broke through… the consequences would be unthinkable.

Lei Zhenting’s gaze darkened as he glanced down at his wound and sighed. "No need! They won’t make it through!"

"Father!" Teng Feng protested.

Lei Zhenting raised a hand to silence him and ordered the surrounding commanders, "Stop them at all costs!"

"Yes, my lord!"

As the command flags waved, countless Western Liang soldiers began converging toward Zhennan Wang’s position. The two Qilin units were soon surrounded on all sides, yet even then, they showed no sign of panic or disorder. Their eyes remained fixed on a single goal—forward, ever forward…

"Wang Fei, we can't kill Lei Zhenting. Let's recall them," Leng Haoyu urged anxiously from the city wall, gazing at the distant swathes of dark yellow interspersed with black.

Ye Li closed her eyes briefly but remained silent.

Beside them, Qin Feng murmured, "They can't withdraw now... nor will they." These mere five to six hundred Qilin had already forced nearly a third of the Western Liang forces to retreat from the battlefield. Zhennan Wang's influence over the Western Mausoleum Army surpassed even Mo Xiuyao's command over the Mo Family Army. Yet the current Zhennan Wang was far too vulnerable to withstand any mishap. They didn't need to actually kill Lei Zhenting—merely appearing willing to sacrifice everything for his death was enough to throw the Western Liang forces into panic. And these Qilin warriors... they were fated to become the inevitable sacrifices of this battle.