Fireworks suddenly exploded in the sky, drawing the attention of many in the capital city embroiled in chaotic nighttime battles.
A commoner who had barricaded himself inside his home with tables and chairs stacked against the door stared blankly at the fireworks blooming overhead.
"Who would set off fireworks at a time like this? Is this some kind of celebration?" his wife exclaimed in surprise.
The fireworks were truly magnificent - even during the liveliest Lantern Festival in the prosperous capital, she had never seen such beautiful displays.
The thought made her sad, wondering if they would even live to see this year's Lantern Festival.
"Husband—" she reached out to pull at his sleeve, "let's go back inside."
But instead of following his wife to hide, the man showed no fear on his face, only calm determination. He took his wife's hand and led her to a cellar in the courtyard.
"A Lan, hide here," he said, opening the cellar door.
His wife was startled - she never knew their home had a cellar. "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" she complained.
Her husband first threw a lantern inside to illuminate the cellar, then helped his wife down.
As she looked around, she was surprised to find it quite spacious.
"When did you dig this cellar?" she asked, looking up and waiting for her husband to join her.
But her husband remained outside, looking down at her from above.
"A Lan, I have something to attend to outside. Stay hidden here - there's food, water, and plenty of money. This cellar leads outside the house. If I don't return, take the money and go back to your parents to remarry."
These words shocked his wife more than hearing about the capital's turmoil: "What nonsense are you talking?"
Where could he possibly go at such a time? And his words sounded like he was going to his death.
"Come down quickly!" she stamped her foot anxiously. "No matter how chaotic it is outside, as long as they haven't broken into our home, we'll be fine. Don't go meddling in other people's business."
Her husband shook his head: "A Lan, there's no time. I must hurry. Military orders are like mountains collapsing. If you don't understand, I've left something in one of the chests - you'll understand when you see it."
With these words, he closed the cellar door, cutting off his wife's cries.
Standing alone in the cellar, the wife felt both angry and afraid. What did he mean by "military orders are like mountains collapsing"? Her husband was just a bricklayer who worked half of every month. Though he was highly skilled and earned good money, he was an orphan who had built his fortune through hard work, acquiring land and this house. Since their marriage, she had never suffered and could even help support her own family—
Money, she thought of what her husband said about "plenty of money." What did that mean?
Her husband was a quiet, honest man. She thought she knew him well, but today she discovered how unfamiliar he seemed - especially the man standing in the dim light above the cellar, who carried an aura completely different from the husband she knew.
Picking up the lantern from the ground, she walked deeper into the cellar. Passing through a narrow tunnel, she reached a spacious area filled with numerous chests. Opening them one by one, she found dried provisions and water - fresh water from just the past couple of days. When she opened the final chest, her lantern fell to the ground.
Money. Piles of gleaming silver.
Though their family never wanted for food or clothing, she had never seen so much money!
No bricklayer, not even the best in the capital, could earn this much money!
Retrieving her lantern, she spotted a letter in the chest - look, a bricklayer who could write.
She had learned to read from her scholarly father since childhood, but could her late father-in-law, also a bricklayer, have taught her husband to write?
With trembling hands, she opened the letter and saw the crude handwriting."I am not a bricklayer. I am a scout of the Dragon Guard Army. Every month, I don't go to do bricklaying work—I go for training."
"For over a decade, I have never carried out my mission, but for over a decade, I have never stopped training, and General Chu has never cut off our military pay."
"A Lan, if you see this letter, it means I have received military orders to go fight the enemy. I may not return alive, but my heart is filled with joy."
Filled with joy... His wife read the letter as tears streamed down her face.
This heartless man could actually leave just like that, and even say his heart was filled with joy.
But then she remembered the last time she saw her husband—in the dim light, that dull and honest man's eyes had been blazing with fire.
She looked at the words "over a decade" written in the letter.
Over a decade of waiting... He could finally fulfill his mission, finally find meaning in his existence. That was why his heart was filled with joy.
......
......
The luxurious Yang family estate was engulfed in raging flames, with few living souls still fleeing within.
A troop of soldiers moved like jackals, stabbing anyone they found still breathing.
The killing had driven them into a frenzy—the more they killed, the greater their merits. They scrambled forward eagerly, all except one who moved sluggishly, whether out of fear or reluctance, appearing somewhat timid.
A comrade beside him whispered, "Lao Bai, what are you afraid of? The Crown Prince is already dead. Even if His Majesty is angry, the Crown Prince won't come back to life. The throne and the entire empire belong to the Third Prince now. If you don't cling to this powerful ally, what else can you do? You're over thirty—do you want to remain a lowly soldier your whole life?"
The man spoke with exhilaration.
"Thankfully our captain was sharp enough to choose the Third Prince. Now we can rise in rank and get rich. Those fools who stood their ground lost their lives or got injured for nothing."
He paused, intending to pull this old-timer along. Lao Bai had always been honest in the army, never fighting for recognition or rewards—except for practicing martial arts obsessively, he did nothing else. What use was practicing martial arts in the capital? Now it finally mattered, yet he still hesitated.
Pointing ahead at a plump man crawling toward a flowerbed—judging by his attire, he could be either a Yang family master or a steward—the comrade said, "Go, kill him."
The soldier called Lao Bai showed neither hesitation nor enthusiasm, walking over woodenly. Just as he raised his blade, someone rushed over and shoved him aside, swiftly decapitating the plump man.
"Haha!" the soldier laughed maniacally, kicking at Lao Bai in passing. "Get lost! All the credit is mine!"
Lao Bai avoided the kick by stepping back.
As the laughing soldier ran off, his comrade approached exasperatedly. "Why are you so useless? Letting others steal your kill like that."
"Whoever kills him makes no difference. The credit goes to our commander," Lao Bai muttered. Just then, he looked up at the sky, his wooden expression shifting to shock.
His comrade grumbled complaints while also glancing upward at the fireworks.
"Who's setting off signals now?" Soldiers naturally associated fireworks with signals, and he scoffed. "What's the use now? The Crown Prince is dead, the Capital Garrison is blocked outside the city, and the Imperial Palace is controlled by the Third Prince's men. Who's even going to see this?"
He found it amusing.
"These fireworks are so garish."
"Lao Bai, listen to me. There must be more people in the inner courtyard—mostly women, easier to—"
He turned to continue, only to see Lao Bai sprinting away, his tall frame moving with startling speed."Hey! Lao Bai! What are you running for!"
At a time like this, deserting was just foolish.
Sure enough, the fleeing Lao Bai was quickly spotted and shouted at: "Halt! Get back!"
Lao Bai seemed not to hear, only sprinting outward like the wind.
"Chop him down," the commander said irritably.
The situation was already settled—losing one useless soldier wouldn't matter.
Four soldiers answered in unison. Everyone knew this Lao Bai—usually inconspicuous and unremarkable. They sneered as they advanced.
"Don't kill him outright. Each of you take one of his legs."
Amid their sneers, the four rushed forward, raising their long blades toward Lao Bai. The next moment, blade flashes swept through—flesh and blood flew everywhere, accompanied by agonized screams—
The soldier who had been about to give chase shut his eyes in despair. It's over, it's over, he thought, slowly backing away. Lao Bai had chosen his own doom; he mustn't get dragged down—
But when he opened his eyes, he saw Lao Bai leaping onto a horse, while the four soldiers who had meant to chop off Lao Bai's legs lay on the ground. Their legs were intact, but their heads were separated from their bodies.
The soldier was stunned, as were the others. The commander was furious.
"Kill him!" he shouted.
More soldiers swarmed forward, but Lao Bai, long blade in hand, cut them down one by one—flesh and blood flying with each strike.
He slaughtered until no one knew whether to encircle him or flee.
Fortunately, Lao Bai had no intention of killing everyone. He merely carved a path through, leaving behind a trail of carnage as he galloped away and vanished into the darkness.
The soldier could no longer hear the surrounding chaos, staring blankly at the spot where Lao Bai had disappeared.
Was that really Lao Bai?
That couldn't possibly be Lao Bai!
That was a god of slaughter!
...
...
Soldiers like Lao Bai and masons rushed from the darkness toward the fireworks blooming in the distance. The street outside the Chu residence, previously cleared by Xiao Man and others, gradually filled with shadowy figures until even the walls and rooftops were crowded.
Qi Gonggong watched the scene, lowering his head to wipe away tears.
Xiao Man curled her lip.
Chu Zhao clenched her fists, then felt a pair of small hands grasp hers. Startled, she looked down at the child in her arms.
Zhong Changrong's scarred face flickered in the leaping firelight. "Where are the scouts?" he asked.
Seven or eight people stepped forward. "Scouts awaiting orders."
Zhong Changrong said, "Which city gate can we seize to break out?"
Just as the scouts were about to speak, a woman's voice rang out first.
"Wait."
All eyes turned to the speaker. Illuminated by torchlight was a girl on horseback, holding a child.
Chu Zhao said, "Uncle Zhong, since we have troops now, we don't need to break out."
Not break out? The capital was full of the Third Prince's forces. The Capital Garrison was outside the city walls, and though the Third Prince must have seized control of it too, not all could have become his men. There must still be some loyal to His Majesty and the Crown Prince. Only by opening the city gates could the rebellion be quelled and the Little Highness kept safe.
Zhong Changrong looked at Chu Zhao, frowning slightly, but remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"We will charge into the Imperial City," Chu Zhao said, gazing toward where the Imperial City lay.
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