Rebirth (Bing Hu Chong Sheng)

"Chu Qiao, this is Huanhuan."

The setting sun was as crimson as blood. The young woman wore practical riding attire, with white camel wool framing her fair chin. Her dark eyes resembled grapes submerged in water—glistening, translucent, and sharp as stars. Upon hearing Chu Qiao's name, a flicker of surprise crossed her gaze as she scrutinized the tall girl before her, finally exclaiming in astonishment, "So you are Chu Qiao?"

"Princess Huan, the most dazzling blade on the Yanbei Plateau. It is my honor to meet you."

The wind from outside swept in, tousling the stray hairs at the girl's temples. Huanhuan studied Chu Qiao intently, her eyes brilliantly bright, her features bearing some resemblance to Yan Xun's yet not entirely alike. Barely eighteen or nineteen, she had inherited the Yan family's tall stature, with snow-white skin and deep contours that conveyed a spirited handsomeness. Suddenly, she broke into a radiant smile, "So it's you who came. No wonder, no wonder."

Yan Xun frowned slightly and chided gently, "Huanhuan, don't be so impolite."

"Alright, brother," Princess Huan laughed, patting Yan Xun's shoulder like an old friend, grinning as she said, "That dreadful Zhenhuang City has really corrupted you. All you talk about now are rules and manners."

"I've heard of you," Huanhuan turned back, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, speaking amiably, "You accompanied my brother in the capital for eight years, endured many hardships, and recently fought fiercely against Daxia to save the army. Truly remarkable!"

"Princess, leading the Huoyun Army to sweep across Yanbei and driving the Bato scoundrels into flight has long become a celebrated tale."

"Haha, as a descendant of the Yan family, if I don't kill others, they will come for me. I can't compare to you—you are a great hero of our Yanbei." Huanhuan chuckled, "I just heard my brother brought back a woman and was worried he had wronged you. Since it's you, I won't meddle anymore!"

The girl flashed a sly grin, made a face at Yan Xun, and darted out in a flash.

The wind outside was strong, lifting the girl's billowing fur cloak behind her. The sound of a horse's whinny rang out abruptly, followed by the fading clip-clop of hooves. Servants chased after her, shouting as they ran, "My lady! That's His Highness's horse!"

"She grew up alone and has always been wild." Yan Xun gazed in the direction Huanhuan had left, a faint smile on his lips. Chu Qiao looked at his profile and caught a rare tenderness in his eyes—a warmth she hadn't seen in a long time, the long-lost glow of familial affection.

The sun concealed its final rays, plunging the earth into deep darkness. The starlight seemed to hang just overhead, like pairs of cold, sharp eyes gazing down upon everything on the Yanbei Plateau. Chu Qiao took a deep breath; the icy air surged into her lungs, chilling her like a block of ice.

"Actually, I am luckier than her."

The man suddenly sighed softly, not turning his head, his gaze still fixed on the distance, profound as the sea. His left hand gently grasped Chu Qiao's palm.

The next day, the army marched toward Lüyi City near Beishuo Pass. The report from yesterday's meeting had clearly been disseminated, and the Yanbei regime acted without hesitation. In just one night, it was decided to convene a grand assembly of all legion commanders in Lüyi. Both Chu Qiao and Yan Xun knew what awaited them, but they had no choice. To establish themselves in Yanbei, this was an unavoidable step.Lüyi was only about 120 li from Beishuo, and by noon that day, Yan Xun's army had entered the gates of Lüyi. The city guard was a fair-skinned, plump man with a simple and honest smile, looking much like a chef from a restaurant.

Later, Chu Qiao learned that her guess was actually correct. This city guard, Tong Hua, had once been the owner and head chef of a restaurant in Lüyi. In his early years, he joined the Great Alliance Society, relaying messages and battle reports for them. After Yanbei gained independence, rewards were distributed based on merit, and he unexpectedly rose to become the city guard here.

Chu Qiao followed behind Yan Xun, riding slowly through the streets. October in Yanbei was already very cold, but Lüyi's streets remained bustling and prosperous. Crowds of people came and went, traffic was heavy, shops stood in rows, and the common folk gathered on both sides of the streets, cheering loudly as the army passed by. They didn't know whose troops these were. For safety reasons, Yan Xun's departure from Yanbei to Biantang that day had been a top secret known only to a few high-ranking officials, so news of his return was naturally kept under wraps.

The entire city was filled with a joyous atmosphere. Although the lax defenses and chaotic organization at Lüyi's city gates still occasionally came to mind, seeing a city so well-preserved amid the flames of war, Chu Qiao had to admit that this former restaurant owner Tong Hua was not entirely useless.

The other high-ranking military officials had not yet arrived due to the long journey, so Chu Qiao and Yan Xun were accommodated in the main residence of the city guard's mansion.

After dinner, Chu Qiao sat in the temporary study reviewing recent battle reports. She knew the situation in Yanbei was not optimistic. To coordinate with the uprising in Zhenhuang, Yanbei had launched a coup on the same day. The Great Alliance Society and the former subordinates of the Yan King led their troops to quickly capture key cities along Yanbei's eastern and western fronts. However, the Meilin Pass area in the north had always been heavily garrisoned by the empire to guard against the Quanrong, with high, thick walls and tens of thousands of stationed troops—not easily captured. Due to insufficient personnel and strategic errors, news of the eastern conflict spread rapidly, and by the time the rebel forces reached Meilin Pass, the Daxia Army was already prepared for battle.

Although the Great Alliance Society claimed to be full of talent, few among them possessed truly sophisticated strategic skills. Their tactics remained at the most rudimentary level, and their victories relied entirely on sheer momentum. Chu Qiao knew that against the elite troops of Daxia, this momentum alone could not sustain them for long. War was an art, and here, those who understood this art were far too few.

She quickly compiled all the battle reports, using red ink to note down points that required attention. By the time she finished reviewing everything, the sky had already darkened.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Chu Qiao responded, and the door was pushed open a crack. Huanhuan peeked her head in, looking around like a thief, and whispered, "Is my brother here?"

"He's not," Chu Qiao stood up. "He's meeting guests in the front hall. Does the Princess need him?"

"Good that he's not here." Hearing that Yan Xun was absent, Huanhuan cheerfully walked in, strode over to Chu Qiao, and said, "I came to find you. Come on, let's go out for a stroll."With that, and without waiting for Chu Qiao's opinion, she grabbed her and pulled her outside. In her haste, Chu Qiao only had time to grab her heavy fur coat before being dragged out.

"Princess, what did you need me for?"

They crossed streets and alleys, heading west through Lüyi. The terrain here was relatively high, with small hills to the west where most troops were stationed. As dusk approached, campfires dotted the landscape, filling the air with the aroma of cooking. The soldiers didn't recognize Chu Qiao, but when they saw Huanhuan approaching from afar, they cheerfully greeted her, calling out: "Hey! Your Excellency is here! Have you eaten? Would you like to sit and have some?"

Huanhuan laughed heartily and retorted: "Get lost! I've already had abalone, lobster, and pork knuckle over there. Who'd want your plain noodle soup?"

The soldiers roared with laughter, not taking offense, and made way for the two. Still, they couldn't help but pay some attention to Chu Qiao.

"Here, this is for you!"

Huanhuan grinned, pushing Chu Qiao forward. Chu Qiao's eyes instantly lit up.

Tied to a large tree was a war horse of deep reddish-brown color. Its coat was entirely red, hooves gleaming black, with a patch of white hair on its nose. Well-fed and strong, with bright eyes, it was clearly an excellent horse. Chu Qiao slowly reached out and gently stroked the horse's nose. The horse obediently snorted, warm breath puffing onto her palm, warm and slightly ticklish.

Chu Qiao chuckled. Huanhuan laughed beside her: "Atu likes you."

"Atu?"

"Mm, his name. I gave it to him." Huanhuan patted the horse's head, smiling proudly. "He's the lead stallion from the foot of Huihui Mountain. It took me seven days to hunt him down, and over a year to train him. Now he's yours."

Since losing her own war horse, Chu Qiao hadn't had a steady mount. Seeing this fine horse, she felt a warmth in her heart and smiled. "Thank you, Princess."

"Could you stop calling me Princess?" Huanhuan said. "I'm not from the main family line. Even when my father was alive, no one called me that. Now it's even more irrelevant."

"Alright, then what should I call you?"

"Just call me Huanhuan. I'll follow my brother's example and call you A Chu. That way neither of us has the advantage."

Chu Qiao smiled. "Huanhuan."

Huanhuan grinned, her eyes narrowing into slender lines. Chu Qiao felt a slight pang of emotion. This girl wasn't even twenty yet. When the Yan family was massacred, she—the only daughter of Yanshicheng's younger brother Yanshifeng—had narrowly escaped death because she was born to a dancing girl. While being taken to Zhenhuang as a slave, she was rescued by warriors of the Great Alliance Society. Over the years, she had become the spiritual leader of Yanbei, standing in for Yan Xun's position. As the only remaining bloodline of the Yan family in Yanbei, she gathered old followers and anti-Xia patriots. Especially in recent years as she grew up, she had even joined the front lines several times, becoming one of Yanbei's foremost generals.

In the flames of war during turbulent times, everyone's experiences could almost be written as legends.

"A Chu, is Zhenhuang fun?" After all, she was still a girl of eighteen or nineteen. After chatting with Chu Qiao for a while, she changed the subject: "I heard it's especially prosperous there, and there are even people from across the sea—the Foluo people—coming to trade. They all have red hair and blue eyes. Have you seen them?"

Chu Qiao smiled and said: "I have, but not many. When it comes to prosperity and foreigners, Biantang has even more.""Biantang?"

"Yeah." The two walked with their horses for a while before sitting down on a high slope, shoulder to shoulder, their heavy fur cloaks dragging on the ground. Moonlight shone on their shoulders, bright and clear.

Chu Qiao said slowly, "It's a very beautiful country. It never snows there, and there's no winter. It's warm like spring all year round, filled with blooming flowers, and commerce is highly developed. The population of Tang Capital alone is over three million—almost one-third of our entire Yanbei."

"Wow!"

The girl who had never left Yanbei widened her eyes. "That's amazing!"

"Yeah," Chu Qiao smiled, thinking of Li Ce's proud expression. "It really is impressive."

"I must go see it when I get the chance," Huanhuan waved her small fist, her face full of determination. "I'll go after we win the war."

Chu Qiao said, "Mm, we'll go after we win. I'll go with you then."

"Oh, oh, oh! You said it! No backing out later!" Huanhuan immediately raised her voice, turning to point at the horse grazing obediently nearby. "A Tu heard it—he'll be my witness."

The horse was quite clever and clearly heard its owner call its name. It lifted its head to look over, though its eyes showed a hint of confused bewilderment.

Chu Qiao smiled. "Alright, A Tu is the witness."

Just then, a noise came from below. The lively Huanhuan jumped up to look down and suddenly beamed with joy, waving and shouting, "Xiao He! Xiao He! Over here, over here!"

Soon, the clip-clop of hooves approached, and a handsome young man in his early twenties dismounted and ran up a few steps, panting as he asked, "What's going on? Why the urgent summons?"

"I want to introduce you to a friend."

Huanhuan pointed at Chu Qiao, boasting proudly, "Do you know who this is? I bet it'll shock you to death! Hmph, this is Chu Qiao—the one who led the Southwest Garrison Commander to defeat a huge group of the Northwest Army."

"Ah?" Xiao He was stunned, looking utterly surprised. His eyes widened in disbelief as he exclaimed, "So young?"

Huanhuan rolled her eyes at him, as if mocking his lack of knowledge, and said to Chu Qiao, "A Chu, this is Xiao He. His real name is... Huh? Xiao He, what's your real name again?"

Xiao He's face immediately darkened, and he said gloomily, "You don't even remember my name?"

"Who bothers to remember that?" Huanhuan frowned, speaking with full justification. "No one uses your real name anyway—it's useless."

Xiao He shot her a glare, then turned to Chu Qiao and said, "Miss Chu, my surname is Ye—Ye Tinghe. I'm the secretary of the First Army. Everyone calls me Xiao He—you can call me that too."

Chu Qiao smiled and said, "General Xiao He, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pfft, him? A general? Hmph, maybe in the next life."

"Hey! Huanhuan, it's not very loyal of you to talk about me like that in front of a new friend!"

Huanhuan planted her hands on her hips. "So what if I'm not loyal? You can't even walk straight when you see a pretty girl. Let me tell you, A Chu is my brother's wife, so you better not get any ideas."

Xiao He flushed red. "When did I ever get any ideas? You're slandering me!"

Huanhuan jabbed her finger repeatedly into Xiao He's chest, speaking domineeringly, "So what if I am? What are you going to do about it?"Xiao He said with a sour expression, "Shrew! There's no reasoning with you. Miss Chu, I have matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave first."

"Come on, what matters could you possibly have? A record keeper, hmph, who even knows what kind of official position that is. Mr. Wu was just giving you face by assigning you some random task."

"You!"

Seeing the two of them red-faced and nearly coming to blows, Chu Qiao quickly intervened, "With the new army being formed, the record keeper bears heavy responsibilities. It's only natural that he's busy."

"A Chu, don't make excuses for him."

Chu Qiao smiled and said, "Not at all. With the frontlines engaged in battle, the record keeper plays a decisive role in the rear. Recruiting and training new soldiers, establishing military laws, creating order, integrating the limited strength of the militia, organizing reinforcements to the frontlines, arranging city defense and new governing bodies in newly occupied territories, stabilizing public sentiment, raising provisions and military supplies, organizing laborers, horse teams, and cart teams to transport provisions—these tasks are numerous and complex, not something just anyone can handle."

As soon as she finished speaking, she saw the two of them staring at her dumbfounded. Chu Qiao was slightly taken aback and asked in surprise, "What's wrong? Did I say something incorrect?"

"N-no," Huanhuan turned to Xiao He and said, "Are you doing all that now?"

"No," Xiao He shook his head, "I just record battle reports, and sometimes help soldiers write letters home."

Chu Qiao immediately felt embarrassed. This wasn't the work of a record keeper at all—it was clearly the job of a camp clerk.

"Xiao He, it seems you'll need to visit A Chu often from now on," Huanhuan blinked, "She can teach you a lot."

Xiao He quickly nodded, "No wonder they've won such great victories. Truly remarkable, so knowledgeable."

Chu Qiao sighed helplessly. It seemed Yanbei's army really needed a thorough reorganization.

After chatting for a while longer, they parted ways. Chu Qiao looked back from a distance and could still see Huanhuan and Xiao He walking while playfully pushing and hitting each other, which she found somewhat amusing.

Xiao He was originally the son of the Yan Shifeng family's gardener. When Yanbei was breached, he and Huanhuan were captured together. According to Huanhuan, she had been incredibly brave and saved the terrified, crying Xiao He who had wet his pants, leading him to escape from Daxia's clutches. But Chu Qiao had heard that it was actually a child who saved Huanhuan, carrying her on his back through the snow for over a hundred li before finding the Great Alliance Society's rescue team. It seemed that child was this Xiao He.

In the vast snow, two children who had lost their homes and families—a child barely over ten years old carrying another child on his back, trekking over a hundred li through the snow—was truly unimaginable.

Returning to the study, Yan Xun wasn't in the room. Chu Qiao checked his quarters but didn't see him either. When she asked the guards at the door, the soldiers said they had just seen the Crown Prince and that he seemed to have gone toward the back mountain.Lüyi was situated on high ground, and the city guard's residence was located at the highest point in the entire city, backed by a small hill. Chu Qiao, wrapped in a heavy fox fur cloak, trudged up the mountain step by step. From afar, she could see only a lone tree at the summit, flanked by stone embankments where not a blade of grass grew. Yan Xun sat on a rock; under the night sky, the withered tree appeared somewhat menacing. Chu Qiao's footsteps startled him, and Yan Xun turned around, reaching out to her from a distance with a smile. "You're back," he said.

"Yeah," Chu Qiao hurried forward, slightly out of breath. She took Yan Xun's hand and sat beside him, smiling. "Huanhuan gave me a horse. She said it's the horse king from Huihui Mountain—a real beauty."

"Don't believe her," Yan Xun scoffed. "She's been giving warhorses to everyone these past few days, telling each one it's the horse king from Huihui Mountain. Yesterday, she gave me two, claiming they were the king and queen pair. By her logic, every horse at the foot of Huihui Mountain must be a king, each leading its own herd."

Chu Qiao was taken aback, then shook her head with a light laugh, recalling Huanhuan's mysterious demeanor. "Such a child," she remarked.

Yan Xun glanced sideways at her. "Aren't you younger than her?"

Chu Qiao shrugged indifferently. "I'm more mature mentally."

Yan Xun turned away. The moonlight cast a faint misty glow on his face, making it appear somewhat pale. Chu Qiao asked, "Are you feeling better? It's so cold here—maybe we should head back."

"It's nothing. I just want to sit for a while," Yan Xun shook his head, his gaze fixed on the city below. "When you were away recently, I felt restless. Now that you're back, I can finally calm down and take a good look at Yanbei."

Below the mountain, the lights of countless households shone peacefully. From afar, the drawn-out melody of a military song drifted over, carrying a somber and solemn tone. Eagles circled in the sky, their sharp eyes scanning the vast lands of Yanbei. Yan Xun suddenly sighed. "A Chu, Yanbei is poor and torn by internal strife. It's no longer the Yanbei of old. Have you been disappointed these past few days?"

Chu Qiao turned to him, but Yan Xun wasn't looking her way. She replied softly, "If Yanbei were still the same as before, there would be no need for us to strive for it."

Yan Xun trembled slightly but said nothing.

Chu Qiao grasped Yan Xun's left hand. It was icy cold, like frozen water. His little finger was gone, and the remaining four fingers were long, rough, and covered in calluses—from wielding weapons and doing manual labor—unlike those of a noble. Chu Qiao held his hand tightly, brought it to her lips, and breathed warm air onto it, then rubbed it gently. Looking up with a smile, she said, "Speaking of poverty, was anyone poorer than the two of us back then?"

Yan Xun turned to her. The young woman's eyes sparkled, her teeth gleaming, her smile like dewy flowers in the night. Remembering the past, he felt a pang of sorrow. How could he forget? Their first New Year in Zhenhuang City, when the entire imperial capital echoed with joyous firecrackers and the sky was ablaze with fiery trees and silver flowers, while palace music surged like tides. In the most dilapidated, remote courtyard in the northwest of the Holy Gold Palace, two children huddled together in a drafty, broken-down room, wrapped in anything that could provide warmth—tattered cotton wadding, bed sheets, curtains, and drapes—like two little beggars.A small pot was set up in the middle of the ground. They warmed themselves by the fire while continuously adding firewood. The girl's cheeks were flushed as she kept stirring the pot with a small spoon.

Half a bowl of plain congee per person and a few pickled radishes frozen with ice crystals—that was their New Year's Eve meal back then. Yan Xun felt miserable and refused to eat out of stubbornness, so Chu Qiao held the bowl to coax him, patiently explaining principles one by one. Later, Chu Qiao fell asleep leaning against Yan Xun's shoulder. He looked down at her, noticing the frostbite on her hands. Though she had already eaten, her stomach still growled audibly. She was sallow and emaciated, as if she would never grow taller. At that moment, the young man swore in his heart that one day he would make sure she lived a good life. Yet, after all these years, she still followed him, drifting from place to place, facing life and death together.

"Ah!" Chu Qiao suddenly exclaimed, sounding quite alarmed.

Yan Xun was slightly taken aback and asked, "What's wrong?"

"The wine we buried in the palace—we forgot to drink it before we left."

Yan Xun smiled, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes as he replied lightly, "Don't worry, there will be an opportunity."

Though his words were simple, they couldn't conceal the deep sharpness within. The man gazed ahead as the cold wind brushed through the black hair at his temples, tracing his cold, sharp features before sweeping across the vast lands of Yanbei.

"Yan Xun, you said the provisions and weapons would be resolved shortly—are you confident? Although Li Ce has tacitly allowed us to access the black market in Biantang, our demands are too great. I'm afraid it might alert the higher-ups."

After pondering for two days, Chu Qiao finally voiced the question on her mind. Yan Xun's eyes narrowed slightly, and after a long pause, he said quietly, "Huai Song."

"Huai Song? Why would Huai Song help us?"

"I've met the eldest princess of Huai Song."

"Nalan Hongye!" Chu Qiao was instantly shocked. She widened her eyes, staring straight at Yan Xun. After thinking for a long while, she said gravely, "So, when you told Li Ce earlier that you wanted to supply military provisions through the Biantang black market, it was just a pretense? Your real intention was to use the southern waterways to obtain an official safeguard, allowing free access to Huai Song, right?"

Yan Xun nodded. "You're correct."

Chu Qiao frowned. "Biantang and Huai Song are at war. By doing this, we're indirectly supporting Huai Song's iron and gold. Doesn't that mean we're siding with Huai Song against Li Ce?"

"What else can we do?" Yan Xun turned to her, his gaze sharp. "Biantang doesn't want to openly oppose Daxia and dares not supply us with provisions. I had to seek a third party—I can't very well go to Daxia to buy grain, can I?"

Though she felt somewhat uneasy, Chu Qiao had to admit Yan Xun was right. She should also be grateful that Huai Song had the courage to do this; otherwise, they might have had to open Meilin Pass to trade with the Quanrong People.

"A Chu, do you think Li Ce is unaware of my intentions?" Yan Xun sighed and said slowly, "No matter how careful or flawless our actions are, transporting thousands of carts of provisions safely across Biantang's borders and having them circulate in the black market—do you really think Li Ce would know nothing about it?"

Chu Qiao looked up, her eyes flickering slightly."He's just feigning ignorance. From Biantang's perspective, it would be best if Daxia and Yanbei fought to the death, preferably for eight or ten years until both sides were destroyed. Huai Song supplying us with provisions aligns with Biantang's interests, which is why they tacitly allow it. With the three kingdoms standing in stalemate for so many years, Biantang's enemy isn't solely Huai Song. The biggest tiger is entrenched in Hongchuan—Li Ce understands this far better than you do."

Yan Xun sighed softly, his gaze distant as he watched the myriad lights twinkling below the mountain.

"Moreover, we truly cannot hold out much longer. The conflict between us and Daxia is a protracted war. We must take a long-term view and avoid killing the goose that lays the golden eggs. Yanbei has been plagued by years of warfare, with the Quanrong constantly raiding our northern borders. Every autumn and winter, our people suffer pillaging, enduring the ravages of war with tremendous losses. They all await my return to Yanbei, unaware that my homecoming would trigger full-scale war on a massive scale, only deepening their suffering. What you said at the meeting is true—the common people are the foundation of Yanbei's righteous army. I've heard many households lack winter provisions. If we don't receive supplies this year, masses will freeze or starve to death, worsening our already strained situation. I must give them a signal, a belief that their lives will improve with my return. Only then will they faithfully follow me."

Chu Qiao nodded, feeling somewhat sorrowful, and said softly, "You're right."

"A Chu, don't overthink it. This will all pass."

Yan Xun patted Chu Qiao's shoulder and smiled with masculine resilience. "We've endured so much hardship—is our current situation worse than before?"

The night wind was chilly against Chu Qiao's face. Her long, dark lashes resembled two small fans. She smiled and said, "Yan Xun, I believe in you."

"Mhm." Yan Xun wrapped his arm around her and gently kissed her forehead. His lips were cold and damp. Chu Qiao leaned against his chest—firm and broad—and through the heavy fur cloak, she could hear his steady heartbeat, thumping with unwavering resolve. Their movements felt natural, as they had been for the past eight years. Neither spoke, their tacit understanding like aged wine, occasionally exuding a rich fragrance.

Some emotions are like river embankments—silent, steadfast guardians, year after year. Perhaps without fierce waves or blazing sparks, they represent the firmest foundation. Many might overlook the embankment's strength due to its silence, but if it were ever gone, floods would rage with terrifying madness.

Mutual devotion often seems too plain, perhaps unsuited to their youth. Yet their painful experiences had matured them long ago. Passion and fervor remained, merely well concealed.

"Yan Xun, who will Daxia send to attack Yanbei? Meng Tian? Zhao Che? Or someone else?"

"Meng Tian has grown old," Yan Xun's voice carried a weathered gravity, sounding somewhat hoarse in the night wind. "As for Zhao Che, I'm afraid he's about to face trouble."

"Oh? Why?"Yan Xun smiled faintly, lowered his head and lightly flicked Chu Qiao's forehead, deliberately frowning as he said, "I say, A Chu, are you doing this on purpose? You even have to ask me about such matters?"

Chu Qiao pouted and rubbed her forehead, wrinkling her nose as she replied, "When I'm with you, I just don't feel like using my brain."

Yan Xun didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It seemed that no matter how wise a woman was, she still had her girlish side.

"After the Zhenhuang rebellion, bandits from all regions seized the opportunity to act, and some local lords cautiously tested the strength of the Zhao Clan. Additionally, with the plague raging in Zhenhuang, the Zhao Clan had no choice but to move the capital. This was the first time in a century that the Zhao Clan had shown such weakness, almost becoming the laughingstock of the entire realm. Yet, Zhao Che was the only one who did not retreat. Instead, he stayed behind to defend the capital alone, protecting the people of Zhenhuang, resisting the bandits, and intimidating the feudal lords. He built immense prestige in both military and political circles. Do you think Emperor Xia and the covetous imperial clan of Daxia, along with those old fellows in the Empire's Elder Council, would tolerate him?"

Chu Qiao nodded, "You're right."

Seeing that Chu Qiao could barely keep her eyes open, Yan Xun chuckled and said, "Right? Look how sleepy you are."

"No... I'm listening carefully."

Chu Qiao yawned, and Yan Xun stood up, scooping her into his arms horizontally. "Let's go, don't worry about others. Whoever comes, we'll wait and see who dares to be the first to stick their neck out."

Curled up in Yan Xang's embrace, Chu Qiao murmured an agreement, her arms wrapped around his neck, and before long, she was sound asleep.

Under the moonlight, the distant military camp sounded lights-out, and thousands of lights extinguished at once, creating a spectacular sight.

Yan Xun looked at the woman in his arms and suddenly felt his heart fill with strength. For the first time in his life, he felt so resolute about his path. He would guard everything he had and reclaim what was rightfully his.

At that very moment, thousands of miles away on the land of Hongchuan, beneath the towering Cangmu Mountains, countless torches lit up the night, converging into a long serpent at the foot of the mountain. The neighing of warhorses and the marching songs of soldiers echoed continuously across the wilderness. The fields rustled with tall grass reaching waist-high, and on the dim earth, the clashing of soldiers' armor and blades produced the distinct, crisp sound of cold steel.

Zhao Che stood on a high ridge, the cold wind whipping against his resolute face, leaving traces of hardship. The black war cloak billowed behind him in the northern wind, revealing a dark red lining. His hand rested on the hilt of his waist sword, as still as an ice sculpture. He watched his army march past him like a rolling tide, stirring clouds of dust—spears, warhorses, and armor flowing endlessly into the distance, gradually disappearing along the distant post road. In the darkness, his figure stood tall and unyielding, like a sharp blade, yet as the gale swept by, his robes trembled, betraying a profound loneliness and solitude.

"Your Highness, please mount up. We must return to Zhenhuang within two days. His Majesty misses you dearly."

An official from the Shanglü Court stood behind him. Not far from them were over two hundred soldiers from the Shanglü Court, fully equipped and clad in military attire. Though their swords remained sheathed, their expressions were stern and unyielding.The atmosphere was thick with awkwardness, everyone’s breathing slightly hurried. Faced with the Seventh Prince, long-renowned within the imperial court, no one dared to show the slightest underestimation.

Zhao Che slowly turned around, his expression calm, devoid of the agitation the officials had anticipated. He raised his eyes, their corners sharp and cold, and quietly scanned the surroundings. Wherever his gaze fell, there was nothing but cowering fear.

On the second day of the tenth month, beneath the Cangmu Mountains, Daxia’s Seventh Prince, Zhao Che, was urgently summoned back to the capital. The two hundred thousand troops of the Southern Army he had commanded were reassigned at the front lines, now under the leadership of the Third Prince, Zhao Qi. Three days later, Zhao Qi joined forces with the Fourteenth Prince, Zhao Yang, who had rushed from the northwest. The two armies were reorganized and renamed the Northern Expeditionary Army. After only a day of rest, the army swiftly advanced into the northwest, with provinces and prefectures along the way actively supplying military provisions and provisions. Thus, the first Northern Expeditionary War in Daxia’s history against Yanbei slowly began.

On the day Zhao Che returned to Zhenhuang, the capital of Daxia erupted in excitement. The common people flocked out of the city, gathering at Luoma Slope thirty li away, shoulder to shoulder, packed tightly together, creating a grand and jubilant scene. Wherever Zhao Che’s carriage passed, it was met with a sea of joyous cheers. For this prince, who had remained alone to defend the imperial capital while the rest of the royal family fled, the people gave him their heartfelt adoration. They loudly called out his royal title, and the sides of the road were crowded with dust-covered foreheads bowing in reverence. Pairs of passionate eyes fixed on the travel-worn carriage, while women and children shouted, “Your Highness, come out, come out and see us!”

The crowd was so fervent and exhilarated, as if intoxicated, waving their hands and shouting, “Our prince has returned!”

There were even soldiers who had sneaked out among the crowd. They had changed out of their uniforms, evading their superiors, to welcome this prince who had been stripped of his military authority, cheering enthusiastically, “Your Highness, we salute you!”

The soldiers of the Shanglü Academy looked grim. Despite being surrounded by the capital’s guards, the disdainful glares of the crowd pierced them like cold arrows, sharp as blades, relentless until blood was drawn.

Inside the carriage, Zhao Che sat with a face as dark as thunder. He heard the cheers of the crowd outside, but he dared not lean out. He did not know what attitude or expression to adopt when facing these commoners who genuinely adored him. Before this, he had never truly paid them any mind. He had regarded them as slaves of the empire, as pigs and dogs to be slaughtered at will, as worthless as straw. Although he had stayed behind alone to protect the imperial capital and defend the empire, it was only because he wanted to safeguard his own nation, his own lineage, and the dignity of Daxia—not to protect the homes of these commoners.But after surviving countless life-and-death battles, after returning victorious from hundreds of campaigns, after stabilizing the situation, what the empire gave him was suspicion and exclusion. Even his own father feared his capabilities. The Council of Elders made no mention of his achievements, while impeachment documents from bureaucrats piled up on the desks of the Ministry of Justice. They feared the power he had accumulated during the war, the support he retained among the people, and the terrifying prestige he held within the military. Stripped of his military authority and placed under house arrest in all but name, the events of years ago repeated themselves. And when he returned to square one with nothing, it was these impoverished commoners who, as always, offered him love and support.

Faced with their enthusiasm and gratitude, Zhao Che suddenly felt a profound sorrow.

They did not understand that it was the empire’s tyranny that had brought about this unwarranted disaster. Yet they, who had silently borne all the consequences, were still moved to tears of gratitude for the slightest act of mercy from the very perpetrators.

He suddenly recalled something Chu Qiao had said to him not long ago, when she was still in his army:

“Commoners are the most tolerant people in the world. For thousands of years, they have silently endured everything—tyranny, taxes, forced labor, oppression. They suffer hunger and poverty, live day-to-day, toil tirelessly, and even exist without dignity, surrendering the fruits of their labor and keeping only the barest minimum to support their families, all without complaint. But if you show them even a little kindness, a little compassion, they will quietly remember it in their hearts and support and revere you with genuine sincerity.”

At the time, he had merely laughed it off. To make use of this seemingly insignificant slave girl, he had even mercifully refrained from openly mocking or refuting her.

But now, he suddenly understood. A stirring emotion took root and sprouted within him, like a seed finally breaking through the soil, slowly beginning to grow.

In the Green Hills Villa of the Zhuge residence, the fourth young master of the Zhuge family, now idle at home, was drinking tea in the flower hall. Over the years, he had always been someone who knew how to take care of himself. Though he had lost power within the family, he was not as despondent or self-abandoning as outsiders might have expected. Instead, he leisurely savored his tea, cultivated orchids, practiced calligraphy, read books, and occasionally went riding at the equestrian grounds.

Seeing him like this, no one would ever imagine that not long ago, this man had just been defeated in the family’s power struggle. A grave mistake had cost him his position irreversibly, and now he could not even step beyond the gates of the Zhuge residence, effectively placed under house arrest.

Yue Qi entered the flower hall and said softly, “Young Master, I’ve returned.”

“Hmm,” Zhuge Yue responded lazily, lifting his eyes briefly before focusing intently on skimming the tea leaves with the lid of his cup.

“The Seventh Prince has returned to the capital and is now heading toward the Holy Gold Palace. Soldiers from the Ministry of Justice are escorting him on both sides, and none of the officers and soldiers from the Southern Army are with him. I’ve heard that the Third Prince has taken command of them.”

Zhuge Yue’s movements paused slightly, and then he let out a light laugh, his tone unreadable.

“The provinces and commanderies in the northwest have all made preparations to supply provisions and fodder. The Batuha Family has dispatched a hundred thousand elite troops to join the campaign, and the Fourteenth Prince is also heading to rendezvous with them. This time, the empire is deploying as many as six hundred thousand troops, all elite cavalry and heavy infantry. Their military might is truly formidable.”Zhuge Yue took a sip of tea and let out a soft hum, his tone indifferent as he remarked, "A pack of dogs can't defeat a single lion. Sending such a bunch of incompetents—I'd say Daxia's days are numbered."

Yue Qi was momentarily taken aback. "Young Master, the Third Prince is a graduate of the Martial Academy, the Fourteenth Prince has recently achieved consecutive victories against the Yanbei Army in the northwest, and the Batuha Family boasts strong and well-equipped troops. How can you call them useless?"

Zhuge Yue slowly lifted his head, his pupils dark as ink, and said unhurriedly, "Theorizing on paper is one thing; real combat is another. If this war were solely commanded by Zhao Qi, Zhao Yang, or anyone else, there would be a fifty percent chance of victory. But now, with three armies marching out and three commanders who each think they're extraordinary—what do you suppose the outcome will be?"

Yue Qi fell silent at these words.

Zhuge Yue frowned slightly, his voice deepening. "An army can only have one voice to ensure strategies are implemented from top to bottom. With three forces standing in a stalemate, restraining and checking one another, if Yan Xun doesn't seize this opportunity, he'd be a fool."

The man, tall and slender, rose slowly and made his way toward the inner hall. As he walked, he added, "Notify Zhu Cheng to withdraw all our business operations from the northwest. This war will drag on, and there's no profit to be made in the west anymore."

The autumn sky was clear and crisp, the sunlight piercingly bright. Dressed in a loose blue robe, the man gradually disappeared among the clusters of potted orchids. Yue Qi watched his retreating figure, a mix of confusion and unspoken questions swirling in his mind. He truly wondered: Young Master, who do you hope will win?

October 6th, strong winds.

The four-pronged army advanced into the northwest: the Northwestern Army led by the Fourteenth Prince Zhao Yang, the Southwestern Army commanded by the Third Prince Zhao Qi, the Golden Sun Legion under Tuba Guli, the eldest son of the Batuha Family, and the Northern Alliance formed by various northwestern provinces and commanderies. The Southwestern Army and the Golden Sun Legion launched a frontal assault, while the Northwestern Army flanked from the left and the Northern Alliance from the right. Like a sharp blade, they surged forward with thunderous momentum—a total force of seven hundred thousand troops, supplemented by over a million support personnel handling logistics and supply transport, sweeping toward the lands of Yanbei.

On the post roads from Daxia to the northwest, carriages and crowds moved ceaselessly day and night. Endless streams of provisions, supplies, manpower, and warhorses poured into the Northern Expedition camp. Daxia, having honed its weapons and trained its troops for half a year, unleashed its pent-up fury in one explosive surge, brimming with arrogance.

The flames of war were about to ignite; blades were already sharpened. With no retreat and nowhere to hide, the Yanbei Army gathered at the border city of Beishuo, maintaining strict vigilance and remaining on high alert.

An epic battle was on the verge of unfolding.

————Transition————

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