The sounds of brutal slaughter echoed from the front lines. He Xiao rushed back, his eyes bloodshot, and shouted, "Commander, Cheng Yuan's army is blocking the foot of Minxi Mountain. His Majesty's forces have already passed through. General Zhuge is trapped on the Thousand-Fathom Lake."
The bitter wind grew fiercer, and the desolate howls of beasts seemed to fill the world. Chu Qiao pressed her lips tightly together, looking down at the blood-soaked He Xiao before saying slowly, "He Xiao, can you cut a path through for me?"
"Commander," He Xiao knelt firmly on one knee, his voice resolute, "Our lives are yours. Please go with peace of mind. The two thousand soldiers of the Southwest Garrison will not disappoint you."
A powerful surge of emotion rose in her chest. Seeing the determined soldiers behind He Xiao, Chu Qiao felt as if her heart were boiling with scalding oil.
She had merely saved their lives once—and even then, it was out of fear that Yan Xun might lose popular support. Yet they had followed her without regret ever since, rescuing her from desperate situations time and again. Whenever she gave an order, right or wrong, they executed it without hesitation. They were her subordinates, her blades, her most loyal kin. No matter what she did, they never betrayed her, standing steadfast behind her, directing their blades against any who threatened her.
This debt of gratitude was too heavy, suffocating her. Chu Qiao dismounted, grasped He Xiao's hand, and fought back tears as she spoke from the depths of her heart, "He Xiao, thank you."
"Commander, to us, your safety is more important than the entire Ximeng Continent. Even if heaven collapses and the nation falls, as long as you remain, we have the confidence to endure. So, for our sake, please take care of yourself."
Chu Qiao nodded silently. Her gaze swept over the faces of these soldiers, who were not skilled with words. Finally, she fixed her eyes firmly on the direction of Minxi Mountain. At the peak stood a majestic temple, where two goddesses stood back-to-back, their distant gazes watching over all of Yanbei like two sacred beacons.
Chu Qiao swung onto her horse, clasped her hands in a determined salute, and declared, "Everyone! I leave this to you!"
The soldiers roared in unison, "Commander, take care!"
The desolate wind whipped their fluttering fur cloaks. With a sharp cry, Chu Qiao spurred her horse forward. He Xiao and his soldiers followed closely, charging fearlessly into the vast snowy expanse.
The mournful sound of horns echoed across the land. Cheng Yuan, leading the Black Hawk Army, stood on the embankment outside Thousand-Fathom Lake, surrounding Zhuge Yue's forces of less than ten thousand. A dense volley of arrows, like an erupting volcano, shot toward the troops stranded on the frozen lake.
These crossbow bolts had been modified and enhanced by Chu Qiao, their power terrifying. Yue Da led the Moon Guards to gather around their commander. Those at the front were instantly riddled with holes, their screams and wails filling the air. Yue Jiu brandished his sword, trying to charge forward and shouting challenges, but Cheng Yuan paid no heed, relentlessly issuing orders to shoot.The Moon Guards fell like rows of cut straw, utterly powerless against such overwhelming force. Yet despite this, soldiers continued charging forward relentlessly—without shields, without cover—using their own bodies to buy precious survival time for their commander.
Blood dyed the snowy lake center crimson, spreading in winding patterns across the entire icy plain. Thanks to Huo An's intelligence, the two hundred thousand Black Hawk troops had laid ambush here early. This was no longer a battle but had devolved into a bloody massacre. Arrows fell like locusts, their sharp whistling filling the air. The overwhelming disparity in strength and geographical disadvantage left the Moon Guards completely incapable of counterattack. Death swept over them like tidal waves, corpses gradually piling into small hills. The wounded lay moaning pitifully on the ground, gradually exposing the figures within—shadowy forms becoming increasingly visible.
Cheng Yuan lightly licked his lips, glancing back discreetly at Yan Xun standing among the crowd.
With monumental military glory within reach—the great Marshal of Daxia's northwestern forces about to die by his hand—Cheng Yuan felt his palms grow damp with excitement.
Just then, a sharp whinny pierced the air as a breach opened in the southeast corner. Alarm bells rang loudly as someone burst through—a figure in black armor wielding a war blade, unmistakably clad in Xiuli Army attire.
"Southwest Garrison Commander!"
Someone in the army gasped in recognition. Cheng Yuan's gaze turned icy as he spat through gritted teeth, "Them again!"
As he prepared to order archers to engage the Xiuli Army, a low voice suddenly sounded beside him. Yan Xun had approached unnoticed and spoke slowly: "Surround them. No complete annihilation."
Understanding dawned on Cheng Yuan, who immediately bowed. "As you command."
"Stop!"
A clear, sharp voice cut through the chaos. Everyone looked up in surprise to see a warhorse from the southeast suddenly rear up, leaping over battling soldiers' heads before landing heavily on the battlefield. A young woman dismounted with fierce grace, striding between the two armies while shouting, "Stop!""
Every Black Hawk soldier recognized her. Fearing they might injure her, they simultaneously ceased fighting, turning apprehensively toward Yan Xun.
"Yan Xun! Stop!"
Chu Qiao stood at the center, her gaze fixed firmly on him as she shouted.
Yan Xun's eyes darkened. After a long pause, he said slowly, "A Chu, step aside."
Chu Qiao slowly spread her arms, her clear eyes watching him steadily as she responded gravely, "You'll have to kill me first."
"Xing'er, step aside."
A deep, cool voice came from behind. Chu Qiao whirled around to see Zhuge Yue standing in a pool of blood, his chest wound bandaged but still seeping crimson. He looked at her with remarkable calm—no generosity in facing death, no anger at being ambushed—just his usual aloofness as he stood fearlessly among his remaining weakened troops, gazing calmly at the Yanbei soldiers.
Her eyes suddenly reddened. Stubbornly shaking her head, she whispered, "I've wronged you."Heaven and earth were shrouded in endless, boundless swirling snow. The vast expanse of white set off the tragic crimson, like dazzling, bewitching flowers blooming coldly upon the icy plains.
The sound of wind whistled behind her ears. An arrow pierced through the continuous curtain of snowflakes. In panic, she turned her head and finally saw Yan Xun drawing his bow behind her. The golden arrow shot forth with such speed that she could almost hear the sound of it tearing through the air. With nowhere to hide and no way to stop it, the cold wind pierced through her clothes, chilling her heart to the core. She watched helplessly as he released this irreversible fate, like the hand of destiny fiercely grasping the figure amidst the raging snowstorm.
The scene slowly seared her eyes. The arrow grazed her neck, leaving a strange, bloody mark, and struck directly into Zhuge Yue’s freshly bandaged chest. A spray of blood instantly erupted, bursting into a dazzling brilliance mid-air. The scalding warmth of the blood droplets even touched her icy cheeks. Her breath halted abruptly. She stood there in a daze, watching Zhuge Yue’s solitary figure in the cold wind. A crimson haze clouded her vision, dyeing everything before her eyes a deep red.
Once again, the sound of a crossbow mechanism echoed from behind. She whipped her head around, only to see Yan Xun’s ashen face. The man’s hand, sharp as a blade, was held firmly in front of his chest, as if he were about to bring it down with force.
Without another thought for dignity or pride—nothing could compare to the overwhelming terror and fear that gripped her now—she dropped to her knees with a thud, kowtowing frantically toward him. In just two strikes, her forehead was already covered in blood. Tears streaming down her face, she cried out in despair, her hands stretched out in a futile attempt to block what was to come.
“Yan Xun, I beg you, I beg you, don’t… Yan Xun, please, I beg you…”
Yan Xun looked at her, at her bloodied forehead, and felt a dull, knife-like pain in his heart.
This woman was the only comrade who had sworn to follow him to the death when he was alone, desperate, and had nothing. She was A Chu, who had accompanied him for eight years in the imperial capital’s cage. He had once vowed to protect her for a lifetime, to grant her a life of happiness and peace, and to fulfill her wishes and dreams. Yet now, those very vows were to be shattered by his own hands.
The corners of his lips lifted slightly, forming a faint smile, just like many years ago when she returned from outside and saw him bent over his desk, writing. He had looked up and smiled gently at the young girl standing in the doorway, his expression under the lamplight as warm as spring water.
A Chu, in truth, I have never changed. It’s just that you never truly understood what I wanted.
And now, I must convey my convictions and ambitions to you in this manner.
“Release!”
The world suddenly fell into utter silence. Even the wind and snow seemed to cease. Her ears could no longer hear any sound, save for the flapping wings of birds soaring across the sky, passing lightly over their heads—so free and unburdened.
Twenty thousand Black Hawk cavalry, mounted on their steeds, released their arrows simultaneously. A dense cloud of arrows blotted out the sunlight, plunging the sky into instant darkness. A metallic waterfall descended from above, arrows trailing long ropes with sharp, barbed tips, all shooting fiercely toward Zhuge Yue."Protect the general!" Yue Da, his body riddled with arrows and one leg severed, surged up like a tiger and threw himself before Zhuge Yue. The remaining Moon Guards, drenched in blood, crawled forward with every ounce of their strength, even if only a finger remained.
The arrows did not strike them but instead plunged like iron claws deep into the hardened ice, their barbs gripping the surface firmly. At Yan Xun's command, twenty thousand warhorses abruptly turned, reared up in unison with piercing whinnies, and as countless whips cracked, the horses swiftly kicked off, galloping into the distance.
The ropes attached to the arrows instantly snapped taut, a relentless series of cracks echoing as the solid ice shattered. The frozen surface broke apart, and icy water surged upward in a violent rush. Chu Qiao turned her head in despair, peering through the blood staining her vision as Zhuge Yue's figure flickered and vanished, plunging into the frigid water. The sharp ice of the Chishui River pierced his skin, tinged with a ghastly crimson. His eyes met hers, calm and steady—devoid of resentment, hatred, joy, or despair. Just as in years past, he gazed at her impassively, watching her drift away time and again, witnessing her betrayals, observing her stand against him, bow and blade in hand, aimed at his brow.
She was a wound in his heart that never healed, festering with poison, rotting and corroding deep into his bones and flesh—a malady only death could cure.
Time raced by, too swift to grasp even a fleeting moment. Chu Qiao’s eyes widened in terror as she knelt, large tears silently streaming down her face. She crawled forward a few steps, like a panicked puppet, utterly powerless before the unfolding tragedy. Their gazes locked, slowly shifting and sinking as a biting wind howled like a beast, sweeping across the snow and casting a pallid mist between them, like funeral banners for the dead.
In an instant, the icy water swallowed his form. No longer could she see those cool, detached eyes, that proud, upturned chin, or even his dark hair as it vanished into the depths of the frozen lake.
Chu Qiao’s mouth fell open, but no sound emerged. The cold wind filled her throat, and she began to cough violently. Struggling to her feet, she staggered forward and plunged into the bone-chilling water with a splash.
The cold was piercing, like sharp icicles stabbing into her feet, calves, waist, and neck. She arched her body and dove deeper, swimming desperately, her eyes wide as she searched the murky depths. Sunlight filtered into the abyss from above, and shadowy figures thrashed in the water around her, the scent of blood swirling in the currents.
No, not him, still not him. She wept in despair, her tears mingling with the icy water and blood, her face turning ashen and her body growing stiff, her movements sluggish. She felt someone seize her waist, pulling her upward.
No, she refused to surface. Drawing the dagger from her waist, she turned to slash at the rope that had entangled her. But just then, a pair of icy hands clamped around her wrist—firm, colder than the water itself—resolutely halting her motion.As if guided by some spiritual connection, she turned her head and his handsome face abruptly came into view—dark eyes, pale lips, a tall, straight nose. His gaze burned into her as he held her hand, pushing her upward with all his strength. Blood continuously flowed from his wounds, flooding Chu Qiao’s mouth and nose. Overwhelmed with joy and sorrow, she wept, spreading her arms to embrace him, her hands gripping him tightly, desperate to pull him up with her.
Snatching her dagger, Zhuge Yue took her hand, his fingers tracing over her palm, writing frantically again and again:
"Live on... Live on... Live on..."
"Come with me!"
She opened her mouth in a voiceless cry, only releasing a string of broken bubbles.
He shook his head slowly and continued writing:
"Live on."
Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably as she shook her head desperately, clinging to him with all her might.
Come with me! Come with me! Come with me and live on!
I don’t want to go up alone. I don’t want to spend my life burdened with guilt toward you. I don’t want you to die. I don’t, I don’t!
The force at her waist relentlessly dragged her upward. She was already frozen stiff, only her fingers still gripping him fiercely. She had never known that his death would make her so panicked, never realized that he had unknowingly embedded himself so deeply in her heart. She had never understood that the so-called hatred was merely an excuse she had fabricated to avoid facing the truth. Never had she imagined that watching him leave would feel like having her heart sliced by knives and her body torn apart.
Zhuge Yue, Zhuge Yue, I beg you, I beg you not to be so cruel. Don’t let me carry this pain for a lifetime. If I cannot repay you, then let me accompany you in death with my life—better that than living in this world that has already left me in despair!
The light grew brighter and brighter. She wept silently, her tears blurring her vision until she could only see his gentle eyes. Her fingers clutched desperately at the crook of his arm, conveying all the words she could not speak through the force of her touch. She continued shaking her head, pleading in despair. In her daze, she was filled with such regret—why had she spoken those words buried in her heart for over a year to Yan Xun? Why had she provoked him? Why couldn’t she have humbled herself and pleaded earlier? If she had, perhaps Zhuge Yue would not have to die.
Pain and fear, like an endless abyss, slowly consumed her. She held onto him, refusing to let go.
Zhuge Yue remained as handsome as ever. For the first time in his life, he gazed at someone with such tenderness. The long-cherished wish of many years, like a fleeting and pitiful dream, received a faint response in that moment. With great effort, he swam upward, gently wrapping his arms around her slender back, then leaving a soft, cold kiss at the corner of her lips.
Tears instantly gushed forth, mingling with the water and clinging to the corner of Zhuge Yue’s lips. Despair seemed to pierce her heart in that instant, cold water rushing in to fill the hollows within her.
Her body had grown completely rigid. The force at her waist pulled relentlessly, lifting her slowly, slowly upward. Her arms stretched taut as Zhuge Yue pried her fingers from his, one by one. Their hands finally separated, crossed, and drifted further and further apart. Chu Qiao reached out helplessly, watching him sink bit by bit, bit by bit. His clear gaze was swallowed by the rippling water, his warm lips now pale as paper, surrounded by icy darkness.Her heart was torn with excruciating pain. Sunlight pierced through the water, yet she could see nothing around her—only his eyes, gentle and resolute, gazing at her as if still repeating over and over: Live on, live on...
Live on. Don’t forget, you still have many wishes to fulfill.
Once, she had said the same to someone else. But in a sudden turn, she realized another pair of eyes had been silently watching her from behind.
The moment she broke through the water’s surface, she felt as if she had already died. Sunlight bathed her face, leaving her dazed and disoriented. Yan Xun held her tightly, urgently calling her name, but she could no longer hear him. Everything she was had died in the frozen lake below; what emerged now was merely a cold shell of flesh and blood.
The wind swept quietly across the snowy plains. Pale birds flew overhead. The sun was setting, the snowstorm had ceased, and the crimson orb cast a brilliant red glow over Sunset Mountain, painting the horizon with breathtaking radiance.
Yet he would never see any of it again.
A sudden panic seized her. Miraculously, strength surged through her body, and she shoved Yan Xun aside, stumbling desperately toward the broken ice. Startled, Yan Xun rushed after her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her fast. She was less than five steps from the opening but could advance no further. Despair and heartache washed over her like a tidal wave, and she collapsed to her knees, weeping bitterly, "Come out! Please, come out!"
A mouthful of blood sprayed from her lips, splattering across Yan Xun’s wrist. Overwhelmed by despair, she crumpled to the ground, trembling violently like a leaf in the autumn wind.
"A Chu!"
Yan Xun called her name, but the sound grated harshly in her ears. She turned sharply toward him, her sobs ceasing abruptly, her gaze cold and clear.
What kind of look was that?
Anger, hatred, disappointment, sorrow—each emotion flickered across her eyes before settling into the ashen despair of utter devastation. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at him, watching years of hope shatter, all her perseverance and dreams turning to dust.
Yan Xun’s earlier worry, fear, and pity chilled under her frosty gaze. Awkwardly, he released her and rose to his feet, looking down at her from above.
A biting wind swept across the land, veiling her vision with a pale haze. Her consciousness began to drift, and in her delirium, she seemed to see once more those dark eyes in the depths of the lake.
Live on, live on, live on...
A low voice echoed in the Netherworld, whispering in her ear. In despair, she closed her eyes and slumped to the ground, sinking into boundless darkness, wishing only to lose herself in an endless dream from which she would never wake.
The cold wind persisted, swirling snowflakes that slowly covered the shattered ice. The world grew desolate, the boundary between life and death no wider than a single step.
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