Yan Xun had that dream again. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his dark eyes still as deep pools. Outside, the sun shone brightly as he leaned over the desk, his inner robe already soaked through. He reached out a slender hand to pick up the teacup—his nails were neatly trimmed, his fingertips calloused from years of martial training. He gripped the glossy white cup tightly, yet his wrist trembled faintly.
After all these years, memories were like a rain-drenched lake in early spring, with distant and near scenes reflected upside down, blurred and indistinct. He had always believed that years of endurance in the imperial capital had finally taught him to forget, if only briefly, and to cherish everything within his grasp. Yet, a single dream was all it took to undo days of effort, allowing the memories and images he had buried deep within to surge back fiercely, sharp and piercing like blades, carving into his flesh and bones, relentless until blood and sinew were laid bare.
In the dream, blood flowed freely. The cold, unblinking eyes of his parents and kin stared back at him, crimson liquid welling from their sockets like fine wine.
For so long, he thought he had mastered control. But the moment he set foot on the land of Yanbei, emotions long dormant erupted anew, like a hibernating serpent startled from slumber—even with eyes closed, it instinctively knew where to strike. In that moment, he finally understood: Yanbei was not his salvation but an addiction of the spirit, inescapable, pulling him deeper with each passing day.
His eyes fixed blankly ahead, his breathing gradually steadied, yet a thick wave of hatred rose from within. A bloodthirsty craving surged in his mind; he yearned to grasp a blade, to swing it, to revel in the sensation of steel slicing through flesh and bone.
Just then, a commotion erupted outside the door, a woman’s furious voice cutting through the air with sharp intensity. His thoughts cooled and settled abruptly. Without a second thought, he knew who had arrived. He called out, and the guards at the door promptly let her in.
Chu Qiao still wore that snow-white fur coat. In recent days, she seemed to have grown taller, standing there gracefully, already a young woman. Yan Xun reined in his earlier expression and spoke softly, "The guards are newly assigned. They don’t recognize you yet."
"Why is Cheng Yuan in the army?"
Chu Qiao cut straight to the point, unbothered by the embarrassment of being barred by the guards. Seeing her all-business demeanor, Yan Xun straightened up and replied solemnly, "He earned it. He killed Xia An, the former city guard general of Beishuo who fled, and brought the Beishuo garrison back. He deserves recognition."
Chu Qiao’s eyes gleamed, fixed intently on Yan Xun as if searching for any crack or flaw in his expression. Yet the man sat there composed and unruffled, like a deep, placid lake—toss a stone into it, and all you’d hear was a plop, with nothing to see beneath the surface.
"I want to kill him."
Chu Qiao spoke slowly, her voice calm, but a flicker of sharp killing intent flashed in her eyes.
Yan Xun’s eyes narrowed slightly as he quietly studied Chu Qiao, but he said nothing. The air grew heavier, the faint sound of the north wind swirling snow against the tent edges audible in the silence.
"I’ve told you. I’m leaving." Chu Qiao said firmly, turning to go.
"Wait."Yan Xun narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at her with evident displeasure, his brow deeply furrowed as he slowly said, "Cheng Yuan is now the general of the Southwest Garrison Commander. If anything happens to him, the Southwest Garrison Commander will be the first to bear the responsibility for failing to protect their superior."
Chu Qiao turned around, raising her eyebrows slightly. "Are you threatening me?"
"I just don’t want you to make a mistake."
"He killed Xue Zhiyuan, killed the officers and soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander, and nearly killed me. If not for him, the Battle of Yanbei wouldn’t have suffered such heavy losses. This man is sinister, ruthless, opportunistic, and a complete cowardly sycophant. How can you still shield someone like this?"
Yan Xun looked at the agitated Chu Qiao, his expression unreadable, and said calmly, "Yanbei has too many people who are unafraid of death and unswayed by power. I don’t consider that a particularly commendable quality."
Chu Qiao retorted angrily, "So you think being opportunistic and cowardly is commendable?"
"A person with desires and fears is easier to control, A Chu. I hope you calm down and think this through carefully."
Chu Qiao stared deeply at Yan Xun, her mind once again recalling the soldiers who had died tragically beneath the walls of Beishuo City and Xue Zhiyuan’s final cry before his death. Suddenly, she felt her blood run hot, her gaze sharp as a knife as she asked gravely, "If I insist on killing him, what will you do to me?"
"You know, no matter what you do, I will never harm you," Yan Xun looked at her, his tone calm and steady. "If this happens, others will pay the price."
The light outside suddenly became so glaring that it made Chu Qiao’s eyes ache. Standing inside the tent, the fire in the brazier crackled, filling the space with warmth, yet she felt her blood gradually turning cold, as if she were on the verge of freezing into an icicle. Her gaze grew distant, seemingly fixed on Yan Xun yet seeming to look past him into the far distance. His features were now marked by hardship, his eyes no longer clear and bright. He was no longer the bright-eyed, spirited young man by the shores of Chishui Lake, nor the fallen prince in the Holy Gold Palace who had relied on her for survival. Time had carved a vast chasm between them—she could not cross it, and he no longer attempted to. Yet, when she thought about it carefully, barely a year had passed. What exactly was power? Today, she finally understood.
"Understood," Chu Qiao nodded faintly, slightly cupping her hands in a salute. "This subordinate takes her leave."
"A Chu," Seeing her so despondent, Yan Xun felt a pang of remorse, as if sharp claws had torn at his heart, causing a searing pain. "Don’t be like this."
Chu Qiao lowered her head, replying impassively, "Though this subordinate may be foolish, she lacks such virtues as betrayal, treachery, and cowardice. Your Highness should seek out such talented individuals—the hope for Yanbei’s revival lies with them. This subordinate has matters to attend to and takes her leave."
Without waiting to see Yan Xun’s expression, she turned and walked out of the tent.
The fur curtain swayed slightly as the wind outside suddenly grew stronger. Yan Xun sat behind the desk, gazing blankly at the entrance as if waiting for something.This was the first time Chu Qiao had ever lost her temper with him. Over the years, no matter what he had done or what mistakes he had made, she had always remained silent and forgiven all his actions. Even when he had nearly abandoned the entire population of Yanbei some time ago, she hadn't been particularly angry.
"Southwest Garrison Commander, Southwest Garrison Commander..." Yan Xun silently repeated the title twice, as many unpleasant memories from the past resurfaced in his mind.
"That name is too grating to the eyes."
The young new king of Yanbei slowly furrowed his brows, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the table as he sank into brief contemplation.
Yanbei was a place where the wind blew year-round. Even though they had now crossed beyond Yanbei's borders, the weather showed no signs of warming. Just as she stepped out of the main tent, she saw a young man in a deep blue overcoat standing quietly not far away. His figure was tall and straight, yet he deliberately hunched his shoulders slightly, appearing humble and deferential. Surprisingly, he didn't come across as despicable or vile, instead possessing an unusual composure and depth of character that ordinary people lacked. Seeing Chu Qiao approach, he slowly raised his head, narrowed his eyes, and gave her a faint smile, saying softly, "You've worked hard, Lady Chu."
Chu Qiao didn't even glance at him and walked straight toward her own tent. But then she heard him say with a light laugh, "It seems your mission didn't go very smoothly, my lady."
Chu Qiao gradually halted her steps, frowned, and turned her head to look at him. In a low voice, she said, "Cheng Yuan, do you truly believe I wouldn't dare to kill you?"
"Why would you say that, my lady? You followed His Highness in the capital for eight years, achieving victory after victory. Your contributions are unmatched—taking the head of Daxia's third prince from amidst ten thousand troops was as easy as reaching into a bag. What am I compared to you? How could I possibly contend with you?"
Chu Qiao didn't respond. She coldly stared at this clear-eyed, handsome man, feeling waves of nausea rising in her stomach, almost to the point of vomiting.
Cheng Yuan looked at her with a smile and continued, "However, the tallest tree catches the most wind. Don't you think you're being too conspicuous lately? After all, the true king of Yanbei is His Highness."
Chu Qiao let out a cold laugh, swept a disdainful glance over the man, and said indifferently, "General Cheng, if you're trying to drive a wedge between Yan Xun and me, you're not qualified. I address you as 'General' today out of respect for his decision, but that doesn't mean you can act arrogantly in front of me. You'd better pray that I remain in a good mood lately, or I can't guarantee that one night I won't sneak into your tent and give you a quick death. Even if you die, do you think he would turn against me for your sake? You're too naive and too self-important."
Cheng Yuan narrowed his slender eyes slightly, watching Chu Qiao quietly without saying a word. Chu Qiao turned away, not giving him another glance, and disappeared into the vast, snowy wilderness.
When Cheng Yuan entered Yan Xun's tent, Yan Xun was still sitting silently in front of the desk, gazing at the map hanging on the wall. His eyes were distant and vacant, as if lost in thought. Cheng Yuan wisely remained silent, clasping his hands in front of him and standing quietly to the side with his head bowed. After a while, a low voice came from the desk. Without turning around, Yan Xun slowly said, "Stay away from her."
Cheng Yuan quickly nodded in agreement. "This subordinate will certainly follow Your Highness's instructions."
"If you anger her, I won't be able to help you either."
"Yes."The dinner horn sounded, and large groups of soldiers trudged through the thick snow, their footsteps crunching softly. Feng Zhi called out a few times outside the door, asking Yan Xun when he would eat, but Yan Xun seemed not to hear, quietly staring at the map, his gaze sweeping deeply over the vast territory of Daxia like a sharp eagle.
When Cheng Yuan returned to his own tent, his expression instantly turned cold. He flung his cloak onto the bed, his brows nearly knitted together. Jiang Teng, his personal guard who had served him loyally for years, stepped forward and asked, "General, what's wrong?"
"She must be eliminated."
The words were almost spat out through gritted teeth. Though he didn't specify who, Jiang Teng's face immediately paled. He hurriedly said, "General, you must think twice. Not only is her own strength not to be underestimated, but even if you succeed by chance, His Highness will not let it go."
"I know," Cheng Yuan said with a ruthless glint in his eyes, speaking slowly. "But if this threat remains, once she reconciles with His Highness, I will inevitably die by her hand sooner or later."
"But His Highness..."
"Don't worry, I won't take her life for now."
Cheng Yuan slowly sat in his chair, toying with a translucent white jade token. The token was of a common design, carved from mediocre jade, but it bore Chu Qiao's name—the very type of longevity jade token.
"I will first cut off her wings. I imagine His Highness would be pleased to see that happen."
With a crisp snap, the jade token in Cheng Yuan's hand shattered. Expressionless, he released his grip, and the fragments clattered to the ground like the clear notes of a zither.
The Blood Sunflower River is a tributary of the Chishui River, located upstream of Wild Goose Cry Pass, facing the majestic pass across the river. Now, with the heavy snow sealing the river, the surface had long frozen solid. A fast horse could gallop from Yan Xun's camp to the opposing fortress in less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. Yet neither Yan Xun nor Zhao Che acted as rashly as they had during the first Northern Expeditionary War. After five days here, aside from small scouting parties from both sides, no major battle had erupted. They seemed to be cautiously testing each other's strength, waiting for the right moment. The snow fell heavier, howling all day long, while scouts darted across the white river surface, occasionally bringing back snippets of enemy intelligence. The staff headquarters worked through the night, analyzing every piece of favorable information. After several exhausting days, Chu Qiao had visibly lost weight, but her military expertise once again left the commanders of Yanbei's First Army, Second Army, and the Black Hawk Army in awe. Within three days, she had become the chief commander of the staff headquarters.
That afternoon, Huanhuan and Xiaohe arrived with another batch of supplies, marked as shipments from Huai Song. The provisions were ample, including much-needed cabbage and cured meat. Yan Xun was delighted and immediately ordered A Jing to escort a batch of newly mined gold from the rear to Huai Song.
With the major battle imminent, A Jing was naturally reluctant to leave. Such a task could easily be assigned to an ordinary officer, but Yan Xun insisted it was a matter of trust and no one else would do. Reluctantly, A Jing set off, filled with worry.Before leaving, he came to see Chu Qiao. Along the way, all he saw were young, unfamiliar faces among the officers. Most of the familiar ones were no longer around—either sent to recruit soldiers in the rear or leading civilians in rebuilding homes and developing agriculture and livestock. A Jing felt a pang of discomfort. Chu Qiao did not see him; Ping An, who was guarding the door, told A Jing that she had gone to the scout camp to analyze intelligence and it was uncertain when she would return.
A Jing said it was unfortunate timing, then left dejectedly.
Seeing him leave, Ping An entered the room and asked curiously why Chu Qiao hadn't met with General A Jing. Chu Qiao remained silent for a long time before finally saying slowly, "It's for his own good."
The day after A Jing left, a battle broke out on Bear West Slope eighty li away. The scale of the conflict was not large, and it was truly an unjustified fight: two hundred scout troops encountered one hundred Daxia Army supply soldiers. Both sides stumbled upon each other unexpectedly, neither expecting to meet the other. Yet in the darkness of the sudden encounter, they stared wide-eyed at one another for a long while before finally having no choice but to draw their weapons and clash.
In theory, scout troops should have the highest overall quality in the army. They are experts in gathering intelligence, elite cavalry with excellent horsemanship and swordsmanship, and skilled in long-range archery. In contrast, supply transport troops are mostly composed of the old, weak, sick, or disabled within an army. With two hundred scouts facing one hundred supply soldiers, victory should have been unquestionable by conventional logic.
However, this Yanbei scout unit suffered a crushing defeat, with only ten or twenty survivors escaping with their lives. When Chu Qiao saw them, she was nearly stunned; hearing their account made her blood run cold. She rushed back to the staff headquarters, grabbed a staff officer, and demanded, "Who is the overall logistics coordinator for Daxia this time?"
How would that official know such confidential matters? His aged beard was already streaked with white, and he stared blankly at Chu Qiao, unable to speak.
Chu Qiao snapped, "Speak!"
"It's an old acquaintance of both of ours—the fourth young master of the Zhuge family, Zhuge Yue."
A low voice sounded behind her. Chu Qiao immediately turned to see Yan Xun standing at the door, his wind cap dusted with layers of snow, his expression calm but his eyes carrying a trace of coldness.
His sharp gaze fixed on Chu Qiao as if searching for any flicker of emotion on her face, but he failed. Chu Qiao remained exactly as before, frowning deeply as she looked at him, as if saying: Why are you here?
They had been in a cold war these past few days.
"Tell me, how much longer do you plan to keep this cold war between us going?"
Yan Xun sighed, stepped forward, and took Chu Qiao's hand. Chu Qiao tried to pull away forcefully but couldn't break free. Her brow furrowed, and she attempted a scissor-hand move to withdraw, but Yan Xun deftly followed her motion with a countermove, still holding her tightly.
"A Chu, don't be angry anymore."
Chu Qiao said coldly, "How would this subordinate dare to be angry with Your Highness?"
Yan Xun's face darkened as he scolded, "Stop this nonsense."
Chu Qiao immediately raised her eyebrows. "Yan Xun, do you think I'm throwing a childish tantrum with you?"
Yan Xun's expression turned grim. He had lowered himself to apologize, only to receive her indifferent remarks, and his pride was wounded. Irritated, he said, "A Chu, have I spoiled you too much before? You're not usually like this."Upon hearing this, Chu Qiao almost wanted to laugh. Arrogant and willful? From childhood to adulthood, from her past life to this one, she never imagined she would ever be associated with such a term. She let out a cold laugh, unsure whether she was mocking Yan Xun or herself. "I’m not usually like this, but were you always like this before? Who is the one who has really changed?"
"A great battle is imminent, and this is precisely when Yanbei needs capable individuals. The top priority now is how to deal with the Daxia army, not dwelling on your personal grievances. Think it over carefully."
With that, Yan Xun flung his cloak and strode out of the tent. Chu Qiao stood where she was, her gaze growing colder and colder. The anger that had filled her these past few days had turned into a pool of icy water, no longer boiling but stagnant and lifeless.
A time when capable individuals are needed? Then why were the veteran commanders of the First Army replaced? Why were the officers Mr. Wu had trained for years sent back to Yanbei to herd sheep with the herdsmen in Huihui Mountain? Why was Miss Yu sidelined? Why was A Jing transferred far away, while she had to spend her days analyzing trivial military intelligence, unaware even that Zhuge Yue was Daxia’s chief logistics coordinator?
The Yanbei Army was gradually becoming a monolithic entity, but Yan Xun, why did you stop trusting even me?
Chu Qiao felt an indescribable sorrow. The pain of being marginalized left her utterly dejected. She sat in her chair, her body growing colder and colder.
Had Zhuge Yue also joined the army? That was truly not good news. His military prowess was no less than Zhao Che’s, and as Mr. Wolong’s last disciple, he shared the same teacher as Mr. Wu and Miss Yu. Backed by the immense wealth of the Zhuge Clan and the support of the entire Daxia nobility, his arrival might indeed be a precursor to the nobility’s intervention in the war, just as the bookworm Liang had said.
But perhaps this was for the best. At the very least, it meant he was no longer ostracized by his family. Despite the war, news from Zhenhuang City still reached her ears, and this was hardly a secret anyway. Zhuge Yue had fallen out of favor with his family due to the Biantang incident, suppressed jointly by the imperial family and the Elder Council. He was stripped of his military rank and official position, sidelined, and placed under house arrest in the imperial city, forbidden to leave even half a step. Zhuge Mu Qing had even confined him within the Zhuge residence, making him the laughingstock and gossip of Daxia’s entire upper class.
Chu Qiao had tried her best not to dwell on these matters. Self-blame and guilt were utterly useless, and she could offer him no compensation or repayment. She had always been such a person—firmly choosing her own path, even if it was paved with thorns or battered by storms, never wavering or showing weakness. Yet, occasionally, in the depths of midnight dreams, she would still see his stubborn eyes and hear his fervent, hoarse voice:
"Can’t you feel it? I need you too."
She could only hope that he was merely handling logistics, that she would not encounter him, that—she could only hope.
Chu Qiao was utterly exhausted. She had no heart to continue reading the worthless intelligence reports. Dragging her weary body, she headed back to her tent, wanting only to collapse into a deep sleep. However, as she reached the western camp, the voices of two guards suddenly drifted into her ears."It seems His Highness simply wants them dead. Back then, Major General Liu of the First Army merely spoke one extra sentence during the meeting, and later vanished without a trace on the battlefield. His sector was an internal war zone—no enemy troops had passed through at all. We suspect he was most likely silenced."
"Exactly. And given how fiercely they’ve been stirring up trouble, if it weren’t for Lord Chu of the General Staff protecting them, they’d have long met the King of Hell."
An old soldier sighed, "His Highness is nothing like the old prince in temperament. Looking back, life was much more comfortable when Mr. Wu was in charge. Even Lord Chu was more lenient then."
"Yes," someone chimed in, "she's delicate and pretty, speaks pleasantly, and is both fair and capable. No wonder those people support her so fiercely."
Chu Qiao frowned deeply, let out a light cough, and slowly stepped out. The men were night watch soldiers, and upon hearing a voice, they were terrified out of their wits. They scrambled to their feet, staring at her in a fluster.
"Gossiping about His Highness behind his back is a capital offense."
"Sir, sir, we know we were wrong. Please be merciful and spare our lives."
The men thudded to their knees, pleading for mercy repeatedly. Chu Qiao looked at them and said slowly, "The army can have only one commander, and Yanbei can have only one leader. His Highness is the son of the old Prince of Yan, the master of our Yanbei. You should know who you owe your loyalty to. This is the military, not a charity house. Mistakes must be punished, and people die on the battlefield—none of this is unusual. If I ever hear you speak ill of His Highness behind his back again, not one of you will escape military discipline!"
The men knelt on the ground and hurriedly replied, "Yes, yes, we understand, sir."
"After tonight, report to the military discipline department. Each of you will receive thirty strokes of the cane to help you remember. Tell them I sent you."
"Yes, yes."
Chu Qiao turned away without a change in expression, but instead of heading to her own tent, she quickly made her way toward the Southwest Garrison Commander's camp.
What had happened? Why would they say such things? What mission had that Cheng Yuan assigned them?
Everything would become clear once she arrived.
"Sir?" A young soldier spotted Chu Qiao and brightened, running up to her happily. "Sir, what brings you here to see us?"
"Where is He Xiao? Bring him to me," Chu Qiao said urgently.
The man was startled and said, "Commander He took the brothers out of camp."
"Out of camp? What are they doing?"
"The scout battalion has been under pressure lately, so we were temporarily reassigned to the scout battalion."
Chu Qiao's brow furrowed deeply as she said sternly, "Who gave the order?"
The soldier's expression turned somewhat disdainful, and he snorted coldly. "None other than that glory-hungry General Cheng."
"Where did they go tonight?"
"I heard they went to Bear West Slope."
Just as she thought!
Chu Qiao's eyes sharpened like blades. Cheng Yuan, if you dare make a reckless move, I guarantee you won't live to see the morning sun.
Pulling a horse from the Southwest Garrison Commander's camp, Chu Qiao swung herself into the saddle and said firmly, "Gather the remaining brothers and follow me."
The cold wind whistled like sharp knives, and the horse's hooves trod through the snow, cutting through the darkness.
Meanwhile, not long after, chaos and clamor had erupted at Bear West Slope, eighty li away.
"Enemy raid!"
A guard raised a torch high, galloping among the cavalry formations, shouting, "Alert! Full alert!"
"Who? Who's coming?" He Xiao's eyes were bloodshot. What they called a camp was merely a formation of a thousand cavalry. They had just received orders to rest here—how had the enemy discovered their whereabouts so quickly?
"Don't know, General," the guard yelled. "The enemy is approaching from our northwest. It's hard to tell friend from foe—what should we do?"This question carried profound implications. Northwest? That made it impossible to determine whether the approaching forces were Daxia's army or Yanbei's local troops. Given the Southwest Garrison Commander's current awkward position, both possibilities were equally likely, with the latter seeming even more probable—a truly exquisite irony. He Xiao frowned and slowly said in a deep voice, "All troops, pull back. Do not engage the enemy for now. We need to identify their allegiance."
"Sir, Commander Gu has already led the vanguard troops to charge forward!"
He Xiao rushed up the slope and saw flames soaring everywhere, the air filled with battle cries and alarm signals. The vanguard soldiers were fighting independently. If not for the Southwest Garrison Commander's resilience and exceptional combat strength from enduring numerous hardships, the enemy might have already broken through their defenses.
There's still a chance, there's still a chance. He Xiao frowned, thinking carefully, and asked, "Where are General Cheng's troops?"
"They left an hour ago."
"Damn it!" He Xiao cursed furiously and shouted, "Prepare my horse, quickly!"
However, at that moment, a sharp arrow suddenly pierced through the air. The arrow whistled with a fierce gust, like a man-eating beast, homing in directly toward He Xiao's face as if it had eyes!
There was no way to dodge, no room to retreat. Fast—it was impossibly fast. An overwhelming murderous intent surged like a raging flood, sweeping through violently. The glint of silver flashed, and for a moment, all the torches around seemed to dim, leaving only the brilliance and radiance of that single arrow. The dark night echoed with chaotic clamor, as if heralding a gruesome bloodbath.
He Xiao's pupils dilated, his gaze sharp. He felt a stinging pain on his forehead as if already pierced. He himself was a master archer, with strength rarely matched in his time. Yet, facing this arrow, he felt like a seven- or eight-year-old child, utterly defenseless. It was like a strong but clumsy farmer confronting a master swordsman—no matter how fiercely he swung his fists, he could only watch his efforts strike empty air, while the opponent needed only one elegant sword flourish to strike him down on the field his ancestors had toiled over.
Too fast. Before his body could react, the arrow was already upon him. He could hear his subordinates' panicked shouts and sense the widened eyes of those around him screaming, but he couldn't speak. In his final moment before death, he wondered, who could it be? Someone with archery skills rivaling the Commander's. To die at the hands of such a person wouldn't be an unjust fate.
"Clang!"
A sharp shriek echoed across the field, followed by a deathly silence. Then, a thunderous roar erupted simultaneously. Chu Qiao galloped forward on horseback, leaped onto the high slope, and stood before He Xiao, bow drawn. Beneath her horse lay two arrows, their tips crossed, wood splinters scattered around them like blooming flowers.
"Commander!"
All the officers and soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander cheered in unison, "The Commander is here!"
Unexpectedly, the enemy also ceased their attack. Both sides tacitly pulled back their forces, standing clearly divided. Torches flickered, illuminating the scene brightly.Chu Qiao frowned. That arrow was all too familiar to her. Her heart began to pound, her brows tightly knitted together, a mix of worry and fear, yet with a faint glimmer of joy. If it were true, if it were really true, then tonight, perhaps they could still... retreat unscathed...
The crowd opposite gradually parted, and a white horse slowly emerged from behind the soldiers. The young man on horseback wore a luxurious purple sable coat, his attire opulent and bearing no resemblance to a soldier. His eyes were as clear and cold as spring water, lazily sweeping over Chu Qiao and the others one by one, his face carrying an eternal air of arrogance and indifference. Finally, he spoke lightly, "They're just a group of refugees. Withdraw the troops."
"Sir!" An officer stepped forward hastily and said, "How could they be refugees? Their combat prowess is formidable—they must be an elite force from Yanbei."
The man raised an eyebrow slightly upon hearing this, lowering his chin and looking at the officer out of the corner of his eye. He said in a deep voice, "Do you question my judgment?"
The officer was taken aback and immediately knelt on the ground. "I wouldn't dare, sir."
"Then do you think I'm colluding with the enemy and betraying our country? Or that I've lost my mind?"
Sweat began to bead on the officer's forehead. Nervously, he stammered, "I was foolish, I wouldn't dare, sir."
The man lifted his head, not even glancing at him, and said indifferently, "Since you don't dare, you should know what to do."
"Yes, yes, I understand, sir." The officer quickly stood up and shouted to the soldiers behind him, "Withdraw! Withdraw! The rear troops first, the rest follow in order."
The man in the sable coat slowly turned his horse around. Before leaving, his gaze swept lightly over Chu Qiao's face. The young woman, clad in white fur, looked thin and frail, making her large eyes stand out even more. She held the reins, watching him without a word. The wind brushed through her hair, swirling it into perfect arcs like ink drops dissolving in water.
Just like that, the enemy troops marched away right before their eyes—over three thousand of them—leaving behind a thousand fully armed "refugees." The battle had begun in astonishment and ended in bewilderment. Only then did someone whisper, "They just... left?"
Everyone was dumbfounded. After a long while, someone else quietly added, "Didn't you see the sir arrived? They were scared off."
"He Xiao, reorganize the troops. I'll be back soon."
Seeing Chu Qiao about to head in the direction the enemy had retreated, He Xiao was startled and quickly grabbed her horse's reins. "Sir, you mustn't! If you fall into enemy hands, our deaths wouldn't be enough to atone for it."
"Don't worry," Chu Qiao smiled faintly. "Nothing will happen. That person..."
Her voice trailed off abruptly. What word could she use to describe the relationship between them? Enemy? Rival? Or perhaps...
"He is my friend."
Even without seeing him in person, Chu Qiao could guess his identity. Under heaven, aside from Yan Xun, who had grown up with her, who else could catch her arrow? Her horse had galloped for less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn when she saw two figures standing under a distant tree. One of them, upon seeing her, happily ran over and said with a laugh, "Xing'er is here! The young master said you'd come, but I was worried."The moonlight cast a silvery-white glow over the vast snowfield. Beneath a large tree that stood tall and resilient despite its sparse branches, Zhuge Yue stood silently watching her. A white horse ambled leisurely beside him, letting out a cheerful whinny at the sight of Chu Qiao, as if greeting an old acquaintance.
Yue Qi chattered away amiably, naturally taking hold of her reins as Chu Qiao dismounted. She smiled at him and said, "I didn’t expect to run into you here. How have you all been?"
"Who is the lady asking about? Are you wondering how I, Yue Qi, have been? I’m doing quite well—eating and sleeping soundly. I even got married recently."
Yue Qi grinned broadly. Chu Qiao felt slightly embarrassed but still smiled and replied, "Congratulations, then."
"Yue Qi, go ahead and tell Yu Chao to slow down. We don’t want him accidentally falling into a snow pit."
Yue Qi turned toward the man under the tree and said, "Young Master, Yu Chao is a general from the northwest. Rather than worrying about him, you should worry about whether I might fall into a snow pit on my way to deliver the message."
At this, Zhuge Yue’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. Yue Qi quickly raised his hands and said, "Alright, alright, I’ll go right away. Let’s just consider it an expression of your concern for your subordinates." With that, he mounted his horse, flicked the reins, and swiftly rode off into the distance.
In truth, it had only been a little over two months since they last met, yet for some reason, it felt like an eternity to Chu Qiao. So much had happened during this time. Since the war with Daxia began, countless issues had surfaced, especially the growing rift between her and Yan Xun. Zhuge Yue’s earlier warnings had come true one by one. Struggling and trudging through difficulties, seeing him again now stirred a whirlwind of emotions in her heart, leaving her momentarily unable to sort through her feelings. Their relationship was too awkward, leaving her at a loss for words. She could only stand there motionless, like a withered tree in the wilderness.
"Your side is having internal problems, isn’t it?"
Zhuge Yue’s sudden remark touched upon confidential military affairs. Chu Qiao was taken aback and looked at him curiously. What was he trying to say? Was he attempting to gather intelligence on the Yanbei Army?
"Your people led me here."
Zhuge Yue spoke slowly, "I suspect someone wanted to use me to eliminate this unit. I just didn’t expect it to be your troops."
Although she had already guessed as much, hearing it aloud still ignited a surge of anger in Chu Qiao. She bit her lower lip, clenched her fists tightly, and stared at the ground without saying a word.
"Be careful. This time, you ran into me. Next time, it might be Zhao Che."
After saying this, Zhuge Yue turned to leave, leading his horse. Startled, Chu Qiao hurried after him a few steps and called out, "Zhuge Yue!"
He turned back, tilting his head and frowning at her. After a long silence, Chu Qiao finally said, "Will this implicate you?"
Zhuge Yue let out a light laugh. "As long as you don’t write to the Elder Council, it should be fine."
Chu Qiao took a deep breath, her eyes shining like stars as she gazed firmly at him. In a low voice, she finally said, "Thank you."
Zhuge Yue led his horse away, casually waving a hand. "If you can’t bring yourself to deal with it, go back and talk to Yan Xun. With internal instability, your war will be very difficult to fight."The moonlight reflected off the snow, casting a brilliant white glow. Zhuge Yue, clad in a purple fur robe, appeared even more elegant and handsome. His tall figure cast a slender shadow on the ground as he strode step by step across the snowy plain, his horse moving steadily with a rhythmic clatter.
Chu Qiao remained standing in place, watching his retreating figure grow distant, then farther still, until it vanished beyond the snowy slope and was lost to sight.
A lump formed in her throat, as if countless words were trapped there, unable to escape. The complexity of her emotions nearly shattered her composure. She stood motionless for a long time, only snapping back to reality when He Xiao, growing concerned, arrived with soldiers.
"My lady, let us return," he said.
Chu Qiao nodded and replied, "Tell the men that tonight's events must not be spoken of to anyone."
He Xiao nodded. "Understood, my lady. You have my word."
After a moment's thought, he tentatively asked, "So, shall we let this matter rest?"
Chu Qiao's expression turned icy. She let out a cold snort and said firmly, "Naturally, we cannot let it rest."
With a swift motion, she mounted her horse. The steed let out a long neigh, shattering the night's silence. A desolate wind howled, whipping up swirling snowflakes and leaving a trail of solemn desolation. Chu Qiao turned her gaze back toward the vast, pale snowfield, pristine and boundless like an endless sea. The lone tree stood silently, its age unknown, and countless souls had passed beneath its boughs over the years. Her eyes, filled with unspoken emotion, seemed to pierce through the layers of time and snow.
"Back to camp!"
————Break————
No outburst today... Will update again tomorrow at the same time.
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