Everything came without warning. The news of the Great Alliance Society's rebellion was like boiling oil, suddenly crackling with sparks in the overcast, rainy weather of Huihui Mountain.
Chu Qiao looked at Duoji's uncle, at this man in his forties with blood staining his shoulders, frowning as she pondered these shocking words.
"My lord, please come down the mountain! If you don't go, the Great Alliance Society will surely be completely destroyed!"
Chu Qiao watched him quietly, remaining silent for a long time. The news of the Great Alliance Society's rebellion had been reported by the Qiu Lan City garrison just this morning. But immediately afterward, Uncle Duoji came running to tell her that Yan Xun intended to completely eradicate the Great Alliance Society, had already stripped Miss Yu and Mr. Wu of their military authority, and had captured Great Alliance generals like Xia Zhi and Xi Rui. The Great Alliance's base in Wangcheng had been razed to the ground, and now His Majesty was also pretending to recall Princess Huanhuan's Huoyun Army, wanting to eliminate the princess root and branch.
Chu Qiao was unwilling to believe such words. Reason warned her not to hastily trust uncertain rumors.
Though Yan Xun's methods were ruthless, he wasn't without intelligence. At this time, eliminating the Great Alliance Society might still be understandable, and removing Mr. Wu and Miss Yu could barely be accepted—but why eliminate Huanhuan? Huanhuan was his own sister. Though she was a follower of the Great Alliance and had been raised by them, that didn't necessarily mean she would turn against her own brother because of the Great Alliance.
"You should go down the mountain first."
"My lord!" Uncle Duoji fell to his knees with a thud, kowtowing repeatedly. "I beg you, my lord, save the Great Alliance! You're the only one who can save us now."
The sound of his kowtowing was so loud, and in just a short while, blood was already streaming down. Chu Qiao frowned as she watched him, but ultimately turned quietly away and entered the room. The door slowly closed, leaving only the man's desperate, sorrowful gaze fixed on her.
Chu Qiao had never held a particularly favorable impression of the Great Alliance Society. Aside from Mr. Wu and Miss Yu, she had rarely interacted with the others. She had once thought they were just a group of power-hungry schemers, but gradually she realized that wasn't entirely true. Most members of the Great Alliance Society were devoted followers and warriors, much like the Mohist followers in ancient China—skilled in combat, learned, and kind-hearted.
Such people, if properly utilized and guided, could be of great use. Kill them? Yan Xun wouldn't.
Thinking this, Chu Qiao forcibly suppressed the unease in her heart and quietly waited for further news.
However, events completely diverged from Chu Qiao's expectations. Within two days, war erupted successively throughout Yanbei's interior. Many alliance branches were surrounded and suppressed by the army. The leaders of the Great Alliance suffered catastrophic disaster. The slaughter came so swiftly—so swiftly that they hadn't even heard a whisper of it beforehand. Everything was like a flood that had been brewing for a long time, suddenly submerging them completely, leaving no one any time to mount an emergency response.
On the second night, a messenger seeking help climbed Huihui Mountain once more. Of the twenty in his party, only one made it to the summit alive. The rider on horseback was drenched in blood, one arm hanging by a mere thread of flesh from his shoulder, as if it might fall off at any moment.He stared at Chu Qiao, unable to speak, only using one hand to laboriously unbutton his collar. The inner garment, stained red with sweat and blood, was filthy, yet the slender characters written in blood remained clearly visible: A Chu, help us, Zhong Yu.
Chu Qiao remained silent for a long moment, then bowed deeply to the cavalryman. "You've suffered," she said.
The cavalryman looked at her, expressionless, his eyes glazed over as if he hadn't heard.
Chu Qiao straightened up. The icy night wind swept past her slender frame. She took a deep breath, then said in a low voice, "He Xiao, prepare the horses. We're descending the mountain!"
A glimmer of light suddenly appeared in the cavalryman's eyes, then he fell headfirst to the ground. An arrow was deeply embedded in his back, piercing through to his heart. No one could imagine how he had managed to climb back up while supporting himself.
Taking only twenty guards, Chu Qiao threw on her cloak and raincoat before charging into the boundless darkness. The cold rain continuously washed over her eyes as an ominous premonition gradually consumed her. She was no longer willing to think further. The warhorses galloped wildly through the thick night, making the journey feel incredibly distant.
Miss Yu's three-thousand-strong guard corps had now dwindled to less than a hundred, all severely wounded. Yet when they saw Chu Qiao and her group riding toward them, they still rose from the ground like wild beasts, watching them with fierce, predatory eyes.
In the pouring rain, Miss Yu lay inside a thatched hut. When the door was pushed open, she was sleeping. Seeming to hear voices, she slowly opened her eyes. Her pale face showed a bluish tint, and upon seeing it was Chu Qiao, she showed no surprise, quietly smiling as she said, "You've come."
A sharp arrow had pierced through her chest. Though hastily bandaged, without proper medicine, no one dared to remove the arrow.
When Duoji saw this, his eyes reddened. Sniffling, he said, "I'll go find Uncle Da Lie." With that, he opened the door and walked out.
The room gradually grew quiet, leaving only two women dressed in white. Chu Qiao knelt on the ground. With her experience, she could immediately tell how severe Miss Yu's injury was. Swallowing the bitterness in her heart, she asked softly, "Miss, what happened?"
Miss Yu took a deep breath, coughing lightly twice. A faint, unhealthy flush appeared on her cheeks.
"Changqing's taxes are harsh. The local people rebelled, and several society leaders were involved. The matter was exposed, and there's no turning back now."
"You participated too?" Chu Qiao's brows furrowed tightly as she said in a low voice, "How could you be so foolish? Participating in a commoners' rebellion is equivalent to outright rebellion. Yan Xun never trusted Datong to begin with. Why were you so careless?"
"Heh," Miss Yu chuckled softly, her chest rising and falling slightly. Her gaze was distant, as if looking at Chu Qiao yet seeing far beyond her. She said quietly, "You didn't see it. Changqing suffered snow disasters last year, and the pasture was poor this spring. Livestock died in large numbers. There are already places where people are eating children. At such a time, taking away their last bit of winter grain is equivalent to taking their lives."
"His Majesty is preparing for war, planning to capture Cuiwei Pass before winter arrives. So he conscripted soldiers and seized grain. The people are all dying. I knew this would be the outcome, but I had to do it."Chu Qiao bit her lip, her nose tingling with sorrow as she tightly grasped Miss Yu's hand, unable to speak.
"A Chu, you're a good child, but life has been too hard on you. I hope you understand that not everything in this world goes according to our wishes. Often, even when we try our best, things may not turn out as we hope. You're still so young, with a bright future ahead of you."
Miss Yu smiled gently, the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes like a soft breeze veiling the clear pools of her gaze. Her voice seemed to drift from beyond the heavens. Chu Qiao knelt on the dry hay, one hand pressed against Miss Yu's chest where blood silently seeped out, staining Chu Qiao's white robe crimson. She clenched her lower lip, tears welling in her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together, her face pale with despair.
"Miss Yu, hold on. Duoji has gone to find a doctor."
"It's no use..."
Miss Yu shook her head faintly, her complexion as pale as snow on a mountain peak, her slender shoulders and arms cold to the touch. She lifted her head, her gaze drifting toward the dilapidated roof. Outside, the wind howled and rain poured down. In her daze, it seemed she recalled many things. In the final moments of her life, time flashed before her eyes. Suddenly, she was transported back fifteen years, to Wolong Mountain, where lovesick maples blazed red and fallen petals danced in the air. She stood in the early autumn maple forest, watching the figure in a blue robe, his black hair flowing like ink.
She could still remember the sunlight of that time, warm on her shoulders like a mother's gentle hand. An ancient zither lay on a stone table nearby, a few maple leaves scattered across it. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows and shifting halos of light. He turned to her amidst the sea of red maples, his smile tender, his gaze soft as water. Reaching out his hand, he said gently, "A Yu, why are you up so early?"
No one ever knew that she never truly cared for the art of political strategy, nor for military tactics and schemes. From a young age, she had wished for a home where she could learn needlework and poetry like any ordinary girl, and when she grew up, marry a considerate husband—picking flowers in spring, listening to rain on cold nights, living a peaceful and steady life. Saving the world or holding power had never been her dream.
Yet, he was a man of great ambition and lofty ideals. His heart was set on the welfare of all people, unable to bear the injustices of the world. He had come to the mountain to study, seeking the skills to save the world and slay metaphorical dragons. So, when he studied military strategy, she delved into political maneuvering; when he pursued practical arts, she immersed herself in commerce; when he learned to understand the people's voices, she honed her ability to discern the intentions of those in power; when he treated others with kindness, she governed with strictness. She tirelessly mastered the cunning ways of military tactics and the calculations of political strategy, all so that one day she could follow in his footsteps and stand by his side.
Her mentor, perceptive of worldly affairs, saw through her heart with a single glance. Instead of discouraging her, he imparted all his knowledge. Only when she descended the mountain did he secretly place a letter in her luggage. It was much later that she discovered it. When she opened it, there was only one word: "Fool."Fifteen years passed in a flash. She had lived a life of military campaigns, exhausting her heart and blood, enduring countless life-and-death struggles. Fortunately, he had always been by her side—whether through storms and tempests or icy winds and frost, they stood together through it all. Time flowed on, the world transformed, and all things lost their former appearance. For power, fathers and sons became enemies, kin turned against one another, lovers betrayed each other. Yet only they remained unchanged in their original intent, steadfast in their beliefs, never wavering even slightly.
Yet some words buried deep in her heart had never been spoken. Over a dozen years, they had gathered and parted, and she always felt there would be more opportunities. Days passed one by one as they busied themselves, rushed about, and persisted in the dreams they held dear. But they never considered that perhaps one day, there truly would be no more chances. Those words left unspoken, those emotions suppressed for nearly twenty years, those tender and serene feelings like the mulberry paths of early spring—finally lost forever the opportunity to be voiced.
"I know my time has come."
She let out a soft sigh and murmured quietly, "I've long thought this day would come, but I never expected it to be so soon."
A gentle, serene face suddenly appeared blurrily before her eyes. Miss Yu smiled faintly, the blood from her wound seeping through the cloth like a winding stream, slowly trickling out. With great effort, she reached out as if to touch that hazy face, vaguely recalling their first meeting many years ago. They were both young then; she had been punished by her master in the street for trying to escape, beaten until her body was covered in wounds, yet she stubbornly refused to cry. He was passing by the bridge with his master when he suddenly crouched down and handed her a bottle of medicine, frowning as he said, "Apply it morning and night. Take good care of your injuries."
"Perhaps the greatest happiness in my life would have been to sleep soundly, with nothing to think about, nothing to do—no war, no slaughter, no scheming or deceit. Outside, the snow falls thick and fast, the wind howls fiercely, and the one I love lies beside me, sleeping peacefully, unmoving, silent. Sadly, I will never have that chance."
A smile bloomed at the corner of her lips as Miss Yu said wearily, "A Chu, I want to sleep for a while. When Dao Ya arrives, remember to wake me."
Chu Qiao bit her lower lip hard, nodding desperately. Miss Yu closed her eyes in relief, her brows filled with exhaustion and drowsiness. She whispered softly, "I'll only sleep for a little while. I'm too tired—just a little while."
Long eyelashes cast faint shadows on her lotus-like pale face. Her heartbeat grew slower and slower, until finally, it could no longer be heard. Her fingers slipped and fell heavily, resting in the crook of Chu Qiao's arm.
Outside, the wind suddenly grew stronger, carrying cold rain into the small thatched cottage. Chu Qiao's body gradually stiffened as she bowed her head. A tear fell with a splash onto Miss Yu's cold cheek, tracing a path downward before dropping into the pool of blood on the ground, dissolving softly into the crimson liquid.
"My lady!"
He Xiao rushed in frantically and froze on the spot at the sight of the deceased Miss Yu, his weathered face stricken.
Chu Qiao slowly lifted her eyes and gazed at him calmly, her voice hoarse as she asked, "What is it?"
After a long silence, He Xiao replied slowly, "Mr. Wu has arrived."When they met Mr. Wu, the rain was still falling. Wearing a raincoat and escorted by He Xiao and others, Chu Qiao arrived at the edge of Autumn Orchid Plain. Across the vast, pitch-black wilderness, soldiers held torches soaked in tung oil. The entire expressway was littered with corpses, bleached pale by the rain. He Qi stood holding a large umbrella beneath a poplar tree, while Mr. Wu knelt there, facing the direction from which Chu Qiao and the others had come. Three sharp arrows pierced his back, one of which had penetrated through to his chest, striking his heart directly. His face was pale, a trail of crimson blood winding from the corner of his mouth. Though he had no breath left, his eyes remained open, as if fixed on something. Even in death, he did not fall, his gaze intense and his brow furrowed.
“By the time we arrived, Mr. Wu had already passed.”
He Xiao’s voice sounded low beside her. The night was so dark, devoid of any light. Chu Qiao sat upright on her horse, her back straight, her eyes dry and unable to shed tears.
A pained wail suddenly erupted from behind. It was Duoji’s uncle, who had once served under Mr. Wu’s command. After being injured, Mr. Wu had shown him compassion, allowing him to return home and providing him with money to support his family. Now, this man in his forties, like a wolf with bloodshot eyes, staggered forward and knelt in the heavy rain, weeping uncontrollably.
“In this world, there is something else that transcends love and freedom, something worth sacrificing everything to protect. My ideal of Datong has already been left on the Shangshen Plateau.”
Vaguely, Chu Qiao seemed to hear the words Mr. Wu had spoken a year ago on Huihui Mountain. The night wind howled, and the rain poured down. Chu Qiao closed her eyes and lifted her head, letting the cold rain wash over her face like sharp knives.
Miss Yu, wait a little longer. The one you’ve been waiting for has arrived. In this life, you’ve both endured too much. In the next life, don’t shoulder so many responsibilities. Stay together, live well, and don’t think about anything else.
The heavy sound of hoofbeats suddenly approached. From beyond the distant horizon, a large group of riders surged forward, numbering around three thousand, all uniformly cavalry. Their hooves rumbled like rolling thunder, and the cold rain beat against their dark iron armor, producing a chilling clang.
“Lady Chu!” the leader shouted. In the darkness, his face was invisible, but his voice suggested he was still young. “By His Majesty’s order, I have come to ensure your safety. The Datong rebels are plotting a rebellion. Please accompany me to the Autumn Orchid military camp for shelter.”
“It’s you!” Duoji’s uncle suddenly leaped up, his eyes red as he roared, “You killed the Master! I’ll fight you to the death!”
No sooner had he spoken than the man in his forties charged forward, drawing the saber at his waist and howling like a maddened wolf.
“Come back!”
Chu Qiao screamed in alarm. Almost simultaneously, more than ten sharp arrows pierced Duoji’s uncle’s chest. He staggered forward a few steps from momentum before collapsing with a heavy thud. Blood splattered, staining the night with a ghastly crimson.
“Uncle!”
A young boy’s scream rang out sharply. Chu Qiao frowned, straining her eyes to see. From the opposing ranks came the voices of children— unmistakably Duoji, Ping An, and Jingjing.
“The rebels are acting too brazenly. I must ask you to return with me at once.”He Xiao and over twenty others slowly drew their sabers, urging their horses forward to form a protective circle around Chu Qiao, coldly confronting the opposing army. Duoji’s curses were like sharp arrows, piercing Chu Qiao’s heart inch by inch. Frowning, she remained silent for a long time before finally throwing down her sword with a clatter, letting the three-foot blade fall into the filthy mud. Chu Qiao never expected to see Jing Zisu here. In the barracks of the western camp in Qiulan City, Jing Zisu cautiously pushed open the door, carrying a large food box. Her figure was slightly fuller than when they had parted, her complexion rosy, and her belly noticeably swollen—clearly, she was pregnant.
“Yue’er?”
Jing Zisu called out softly, replacing the cold food with fresh, hot dishes—all Chu Qiao’s favorites, four dishes and a soup, prepared lightly.
“Please eat something. You haven’t eaten for a day and a night.”
“Why are you here?” Chu Qiao turned her head, slightly frowning, and said in a low voice, “Did Yan Xun force you to persuade me?”
“No,” Zisu quickly shook her head, nervously replying, “Shi Peng is my husband.”
Tang Shipeng, the garrison commander of Qiulan City, was the officer who had earlier forced Chu Qiao into this situation and the direct perpetrator behind Mr. Wu’s death and the ambush on Miss Yu.
Chu Qiao’s expression gradually turned cold as she stared at Jing Zisu, remaining silent for a long time.
“Yue’er, please… eat a little,” Jing Zisu said cautiously, not daring to look up at her, hurriedly adding, “These are all your favorites, made by my own hands.”
“Did you know in advance that Mr. Wu was killed?”
Jing Zisu stood there, head bowed, nervously clutching the handkerchief in her hand like a frightened bird, her voice barely a whisper. “I… I knew.”
“And Miss Yu is dead too. Did you know that?”
Jing Zisu nodded gently.
“Did you know your husband captured Ping An and Jingjing to threaten me into submission?”
“Yue’er?” Jing Zisu looked up, her eyes pleading, red-rimmed and tearful, on the verge of crying.
“Now they’re going to kill others—Bian Cang, Xi Rui, Xia Zhi, Adu, Huanhuan, Xiaohe—none of them will escape. Did you know that?”
Tears finally streamed down Jing Zisu’s face. Covering her face, she stood before Chu Qiao, her pregnant belly prominent, sobbing uncontrollably.
Chu Qiao looked at her, her vision blurring faintly. For them, she had repeatedly risked her life, yet over the past two years, due to the strained relationship between her and Yan Xun, they had never once come to see her—not even when she gave birth, without sending a single letter.
After all, these people were her nominal relatives, her blood-related sisters.
“Leave.”
Chu Qiao turned away, refusing to look at her again. Jing Zisu timidly tugged at the corner of her clothes, softly calling, “Yue’er…”
Chu Qiao remained unmoved, but then she heard Jing Zisu’s sorrowful cry: “Yue’er, what could I do? What could I do? I’m just a woman!”Indeed, what could she expect from her? To betray her husband, betray her family, and come to deliver a warning? For Jing Zisu, who regarded her husband as her heaven, wasn’t all of this nothing short of a fantasy? Yet, why did she still feel anger? Why this lingering resentment and heartache? She knew that if it were them in trouble, she would undoubtedly help them without hesitation—so was she simply expecting others to treat her the same way?
“Yue’er, why are you so stubborn? His Majesty has been so good to you—we’ve all seen it. Riches, treasures, glory, and splendor are laid out before you. For your sake, the Emperor has remained unmarried for years. With him treating you like this, are you still not satisfied? What more could you possibly ask for? After all, he is the Emperor!”
In the past, Chu Qiao might have sneered coldly from the bottom of her heart, but now, she couldn’t even muster a laugh.
Indeed, wealth and riches, glory and splendor—all she had to do was nod, and she would become the queen of Yanbei, second only to one, the sole beloved wife of the Yanbei emperor, living a life of luxury and extravagance. As a woman, what more could she possibly desire? When she retreated to the mountains in sorrow and grief, she had no idea that others were mocking her for her ingratitude, and among those people was even her own sister.
But none of that was what she wanted. Just as Yan Xun had said, she had never truly understood him. Yet, Yan Xun, after more than a decade of friendship, when have you ever truly understood me?
Your mistake lies in treating me as a woman like Jing Zisu, but I, Chu Qiao, am nothing like that.
When words fall on deaf ears, even half a sentence is too much. Chu Qiao lightly shook off Jing Zisu’s hand and walked straight into the inner room, not bothering to look back.
After a while, the door to the room opened, and Jing Zisu quietly stepped out. The sound of the lock turning was especially loud, a sharp click that seemed to seal away Chu Qiao’s thoughts. Chu Qiao sat on the bed, a brazier of sandalwood at her feet, its faint fragrance drifting through the gaps in the copper lid like wisps of floating clouds. She leaned quietly against the bedpost, her mind in turmoil as countless thoughts surged forth. Her heart grew colder and colder, gradually losing its warmth. Over the past two years, she had restrained herself from dwelling on these memories, but now they rushed to the surface. The shadows of Mr. Wu and Miss Yu overlapped before her eyes, making her fingertips tremble with coldness.
There is no sorrow greater than a heart that has died, and now, she had finally reached utter despair.
For three consecutive days, Chu Qiao remained trapped in this cage, completely cut off from the outside world. She thought that Miss Yu might have been mistaken back then, believing that Chu Qiao could stop all this, but she had never truly understood Yan Xun. Since childhood, he had been a person of unwavering determination. Once he set his mind on something, no one could stop him—not even her. Now, with the situation settled, all she had to do was await the outcome.
Yan Xun had been Mr. Wu’s disciple since childhood and later studied military strategy under Miss Yu. His martial arts and swordsmanship had all been taught by Chu Qiao. Now, he had surpassed his teachers, and those old matters were finally cast aside by him.
On the evening of the third day, as Chu Qiao sat on the bed lost in thought as usual, hurried and panicked footsteps suddenly sounded at the door. The lock clattered open, and Jing Zisu rushed in, flustered and alarmed, carrying a traveling cloak and a bundle. Striding inside, she said urgently, "Yue'er, quick, you must leave!"
Chu Qiao stood up abruptly, frowning as she asked, "Did Tang Shipeng order you to release me?"
Jing Zisu stood frozen in place, her face pale. At the mention of her husband’s name, she seemed to snap out of her daze. Chu Qiao immediately understood and said gravely, "Do you realize what you’re doing? He won’t let you off."
"Yue'er, hurry, you must go," Jing Zisu insisted, shoving the clothes into her hands, her voice frantic. "Quickly."
"I can’t. If I leave, it will endanger He Xiao and the others."
"Your people have stormed the city. They’ve already broken into the prison and rescued Commander He and Ping An."
"What?" Chu Qiao was startled and quickly asked, "The Xiuli Army is here?"
"Yes," Jing Zisu nodded urgently. "You must leave now. Shipeng will be here any moment."Jing Zisu deftly dressed her and draped the cloak over her shoulders, her usually delicate face showing a hint of resilience for the first time. Chu Qiao grabbed her hand and asked in a low voice, "Sister Zisu, do you know what he will do to you if you do this?"
Jing Zisu froze. Over the past few days, her face had visibly thinned, and her large eyes looked panicked. After a long while, she shook her head and whispered, "I just think Mr. Wu is a good person, Miss Yu is a good person, and you, Yue'er, are also a good person. Good people should be rewarded."
Chu Qiao's eyes stung. This fragile woman, who had endured humiliation and drifted with the currents all her life, had made such a choice at this critical moment of life and death, guided only by her own heart. Her reasoning was simple: good people should not go unrewarded. But Sister Zisu, do you know that in this world, most good people are not rewarded? With demons running rampant and monsters thriving, good people can no longer survive.
Looking at her pure and clear eyes, Chu Qiao felt as if a mountain were pressing down on her shoulders, suffocating her. She took a deep breath and said firmly, "Come with me."
"No," Jing Zisu shook her head. "I am his wife after all, and I am pregnant. He won't do anything to me. You should go quickly."
Chu Qiao said firmly, "You must come with me."
"No, Yue'er. I am Shipeng's wife. I won't leave him. This is my home!"
At this moment, Jing Zisu's eyes revealed a rare determination and resolve. Chu Qiao understood—everyone has their own beliefs and convictions, and Jing Zisu was no exception. She nodded, finished dressing, and said slowly, "Sister Zisu, I'm leaving. Take care of yourself. I will come back for you after I finish my business."
"Mm, I will give birth in four months. You are the baby's aunt—you must come to see them then."
Jing Zisu covered her belly with her hands and smiled shyly, her maternal tenderness like the warm spring sun. Chu Qiao held her hand and said solemnly, "Wait for me."
With that, she turned sharply and left.
Nine thousand Xiuli Army soldiers roared into the city. The citizens themselves opened the gates and guided them, plunging the entire western military barracks of Qiulan City into a sea of flames and battle cries. Tang Shipeng, mounted on his horse, cursed as he directed his scattered troops. Just then, a subordinate rushed over to report, "General! Chu Qiao has escaped! She injured the guards at the stables and took a horse out of the city."
"What?" Tang Shipeng roared in fury. "How could she escape with so many guards watching?"
"It was the Lady. She used your token to trick them into giving her the keys."
"That bitch!" Tang Shipeng exploded in rage, shouting coldly, "She has ruined my plans!"
"General!"
Another messenger galloped over, shouting before he even dismounted, "The Orchid Chamber is on fire! The Lady is still inside! We need to mobilize the fire brigade immediately!"
"General!" Yet another messenger rushed over, crying out, "Chu Qiao has fled through the southern gate with the Xiuli Army! We have regrouped our forces—should we pursue?"
Tang Shipeng furrowed his brow, pondered for a moment, and then said decisively, "Pursue!"
"General, what about the Lady?"
Tang Shipeng growled angrily, "If Chu Qiao escapes, no one in Qiulan City will survive! All troops, follow my orders—pursue!"The army galloped forth, charging out of the southern city gate. At this moment, the Orchid Chamber was engulfed in crimson, flames leaping high, gradually devouring the entire room. Jing Zisu huddled in a corner, trembling with fear at the sight of the overwhelming redness. Beads of sweat as large as beans rolled down her forehead, tracing pale streaks through the grime covering her face. Clutching her belly and gritting her teeth, she murmured like a hypnotic chant, "Don't be afraid, little one. Your father will come to save us soon."
Outside, the howling wind fanned the flames, intensifying the blaze. All the soldiers of Qiulan City had pursued beyond the walls. Some civilians, seeing the fire, rushed into the general's residence and stared blankly at the inferno consuming the Orchid Chamber.
"Ah! It's on fire! Is anyone inside?"
A servant from the general's residence stepped forward and said, "Lord Chu has been rescued by the Xiuli Army. There's no one inside."
"Then forget it. Bunch of bastards—let it burn to the ground."
The civilians gradually dispersed, leaving only the crackling of flames and the thick smoke. Jing Zisu coughed with difficulty as the fire spread closer. Terrified, she closed her eyes but still clutched her belly, repeating, "Don't be afraid, little one. Your father will come to save us soon."
With a thunderous crash, a beam fell, silencing all sounds. Everything was covered in black ash as the entire general's residence and the western barracks were consumed by the great fire. Chu Qiao galloped across the wilderness, glancing back to see a red glow in the direction of Qiulan City. The flames dyed half the sky crimson, like the blood shed by warriors in their final moments.
"My lord,"
He Xiao approached. "We must hurry."
"Mm." Chu Qiao nodded, suppressing an ominous premonition. The night journey was treacherous, and they still had a long way to go.
The world was desolate, with fierce winds sweeping the ground. The long night had just begun and was far from over. The sky was dark, clouds hung low and oppressive, and the wind howled with a mournful wail.
"Fire!"
A deep voice repeatedly issued the monotonous command to attack. The trapped soldiers in the valley grew fewer and fewer, blood spreading everywhere. Countless arrows rained down on the troops in red uniforms, and the battlefield echoed with desperate cries of slaughter. Sharp alarm bells rang out urgently, with over twenty distress signals sent. They were on the southern slope of Huolei Plain, less than the time it takes to burn a stick of incense from Beishuo City on horseback. They couldn't understand why the Beishuo garrison hadn't come to their rescue. Had Beishuo City been besieged? And who were these mysterious enemies?
"Who are they?"
Xiao He had an arrow embedded in his shoulder, blood flowing from his body like a stream. His comrades fell one by one around him, like wheat in early autumn. His eyes were bloodshot with confusion. He had been summoned by the emperor's order to return to Beishuo for commendation—why had they been ambushed by unknown enemies?
Xiao He stared at the madness before him as if trapped in a terrifying nightmare. The situation was like a boulder rolling down a mountain, unstoppable. Anyone who tried to intervene would be crushed to pulp.They still hadn't engaged the enemy directly, for they were in Yanbei territory and had come to receive honors, so they carried no long-range weapons—no shields, no bows. Trapped in this low-lying valley, surrounded on all sides by foes, arrows rained down as if guided by eyes. There was no escape, no retreat, no defense. Every warrior who attempted to charge was pinned to the ground by arrows, blood flowing wildly, corpses piling into small hills. The soldiers roared hoarsely:
"Who are they? Why are they attacking us?"
"Why is no one coming to our aid? Where are the Beishuo garrison troops?"
"They're using repeating crossbows—it's our own army!"
"Who is it? Who wants us dead?"
...
Xiao He's eyes were bloodshot. His deputy stood before him, saber raised, shouting again and again, "Protect the general! Protect the general!" But before he could finish, a sharp arrow pierced his throat. His voice instantly turned into a wheezing leak, blood gushing out and splattering across Xiao He's face. Xiao He caught his deputy's body—a robust man in his thirties, eyes wide with terror, hands clutching Xiao He's cloak. Blood poured from his mouth as he gasped brokenly, "Who... who... who wants us dead..."
Incomplete corpses layered upon one another, gradually forming a sea of bodies beneath Xiao He's feet. The wounds no longer felt painful. By the third watch, rain began to fall, drenching the ground and mixing with bloody mud. The soldiers struggled step by step, using their comrades' corpses to build trench walls against the fierce arrows.
Screams and curses filled the air. After an unknown length of time, the enemy's assault suddenly eased; the arrow storm vanished. Yet they remained silently encircling, not a sound uttered, like stones in silence.
The Second Brigade of the Flaming Cloud Army was nearly wiped out. Those still alive barely clung to life, too exhausted to charge again, their heavy breaths like those of dying stray dogs.
Silence, utter silence, deathly silence.
Suddenly, a low mechanical sound slowly arose. The soldiers' eyes widened in terror as they looked up—only to see overwhelming long-range heavy crossbow bolts sweeping in, as long as sharp spears, piercing through the trenches built of flesh and blood with a whoosh.
"Ah!"
"Damn you bastards, I'll—"
Fierce curses erupted once more but were cut short. Xiao He, pierced by three or four arrows, drenched in blood, his handsome face unrecognizable, swung his sword in desperate combat. A sharp arrow shot forth, piercing his shoulder with a thud and pinning him firmly to the Flaming Cloud Army's battle standard.
"General!"A soldier saw this and stumbled forward, yet just as he was about to reach Xiao He, a sharp arrow suddenly pierced through his back. The soldier’s pupils instantly dilated. He seemed somewhat bewildered as he lowered his head, reaching out to touch the intestines and blood clinging to the arrow that had pierced his body. His brow furrowed slightly, like that of an innocent child. He knelt down, propped up by the arrow, and died just like that before Xiao He’s eyes.
The young general’s tears flowed like a torrent as he roared hoarsely, like a ferocious lion.
“Protect the general!”
Soldiers swarmed forward. The enemy across the field noticed the commotion and concentrated their arrows toward them.
A soldier Xiao He had never seen before turned and smiled at him, his clear eyes holding a carefree brightness. He said with a laugh, “You all save the commander. I’ll go on ahead.”
Then he turned and charged straight into the oncoming rain of arrows. Countless sharp arrows pierced his chest and head. Like a target, he stood there, refusing to fall even in death.
Heart-wrenching pain surged within Xiao He. He roared and rushed forward, his body forcing its way through the long arrows.
The young general swung his sword wildly as he charged ahead. Arrows continuously struck his body, yet he pressed on relentlessly. The enemies hidden in the darkness were shaken. Some soldiers paused in astonishment, watching as the blood-soaked soldier roared and charged toward them.
Just then, a battle blade suddenly flew out. With a sharp whoosh, it struck Xiao He’s leg. His body staggered, and he crashed to one knee. Gazing at the enemy camp now so close, his eyes glowed with a blood-red light. What a gaze it was—filled with desperate resentment and frenzied rage. His eyes swept over the black-clad, black-armored soldiers like knives. Suddenly, a mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips. With astonishing willpower, the young general rose to his feet once more, roaring as he charged forward, shouting, “Who is it? Who wants us dead?”
A sky-blotting volley of arrows shot toward him at once, pinning Xiao He firmly to the ground. His face and features were no longer distinguishable. A low tremor shook the world as a cold downpour poured, drenching the cooling corpses. Blood meandered away with the rainwater, and muffled thunder rolled across the sky. Finally, not a single standing figure remained.
“Burn them.”
A low command rang out slowly. Soldiers carrying wooden buckets rushed forward, pouring pine oil over the bodies of the recently fallen warriors. Mixed with the stench of blood, it created a nauseating odor. Torches were thrown onto the pile, and flames roared to life, undeterred by the fierce rain. The black-clad soldiers stood in place, silently watching as the fire consumed all lingering defiance.
Yes, slaughter cannot eradicate ideas, but it can destroy their vessels.
The rainy night remained dark and bitterly cold. The soldiers turned and headed toward Beishuo City, no longer sparing a single glance at what lay behind them.
The morning star rose slowly on the horizon. A messenger sprinted over and announced loudly, “Princess Huanhuan has led her troops to the city gates. His Majesty orders the general to proceed there immediately with his forces.”
The slaughter was not yet over. Everything continued. “Commander! There are people ahead—about three hundred, likely Beishuo scouts. They’re all mounted on swift warhorses. Should we take cover for now?”Chu Qiao furrowed her brows. The heavy rain had just ceased, and the oppressive dark clouds slowly dispersed, leaving the world shrouded in a milky-white mist. She gazed ahead with sharp eyes, like a white eagle soaring across the sky.
"Commander! It's the Fire Cloud Army, and there's a large enemy force in pursuit—it looks like over five thousand men!"
The scout galloped back urgently. Chu Qiao's eyebrows shot up, and she made a swift decision: "He Xiao, take men immediately to rescue Princess Huanhuan and hold off the pursuing troops."
"Yes!"
He Xiao acknowledged the order, rallied four thousand soldiers, and spurred his horse away.
Chu Qiao followed with her troops, their horses' hooves splashing through the muddy red soil, where faint traces of crimson could be glimpsed in the muck.
The two armies quickly intersected. The battered Fire Cloud Army was clustered together, and even from a distance, Chu Qiao spotted Huanhuan's fiery-red warhorse at once. She urged her horse forward rapidly but was instantly stunned by the scene before her.
Huanhuan's clothes were torn, her crimson cloak drenched in blood. An arrow was lodged in her lung, and she bore several sword wounds. She lay weakly breathing in the arms of a female general in her thirties.
"What happened?"
Chu Qiao leaped from her horse and knelt in the mud, frowning at Huanhuan's grievous injuries. She turned and shouted, "Medic! Where is the medic?"
"Commander Chu!"
Upon seeing her, the female general burst into tears, sobbing, "The Emperor wants to kill our princess. General Xiaohe has already fallen in battle, and the princess was ambushed…"
"Xiaohe…"
A faint voice suddenly spoke. With the trembling of her lungs, a gush of blood erupted from Huanhuan's mouth. The female general panicked, pressing hard on the wound, but she couldn't stem the flow of crimson.
"Xiaohe…"
Huanhuan winced in agony, her calls feeble, her face pale, her mind already clouded.
In her delirium, she seemed to drift through one dream after another. She vaguely saw Xiaohe's cheerful, radiant smile, witnessed beacon fires stretching for miles, felt Xiaohe carrying her across the vast snowy plains, tirelessly telling jokes to comfort her as she wept on his back, reassuring her again and again: "Huanhuan, you won't die. You won't die. If anyone dares to kill you, I'll bite them to death."
"Xiaohe, Xiaohe…"
Tears streamed in large drops from the blood-stained corners of Huanhuan's eyes. With each labored breath, blood bubbled forth like an unending spring. In her unconscious state, she wept bitterly—Xiaohe was dead, Xiaohe was dead, Xiaohe had been killed by him!
"Princess! Princess!" The female general held her, wailing like a mother beast grieving her lost cub.
…
"Huanhuan, what will we do after the war is over?"
"After the war? Then my brother will be emperor, and I'll be a princess. I can choose a consort from across the land, marry the most talented man, haha!"
"Shameless! Heartless, go find your man then!"
…
Sharp pain pierced through her bit by bit, as if her heart and lungs were being crushed. She struggled to breathe, blood foam clogging her throat. She opened her mouth wide, but only more blood poured out. Dazedly, she opened her eyes, gazing blankly around—she saw the vast sky, vibrant red flowers, and the pure white eagle soaring above.
Yanbei, Yanbei…
I've fought for you all my life, so why have you abandoned me?The young girl frowned in confusion, then slowly turned her head and saw Chu Qiao. Her consciousness suddenly sharpened, and she struggled to extend her hand as if trying to grasp something. Chu Qiao fought back tears and hurriedly clasped her hand, choking out, "Huanhuan, you must hold on. The physician will save you."
Huanhuan gripped Chu Qiao's hand with desperate strength, then suddenly lowered her head and viciously sank her teeth into Chu Qiao's wrist. Blood instantly stained her teeth as the attendants on both sides cried out in alarm. Chu Qiao stared numbly at her, seeing only the overwhelming hatred flooding Huanhuan's eyes.
"Why? Why?"
Huanhuan screamed with heartrending anguish, her mouth full of blood and eyes blazing crimson as she shrieked at Chu Qiao: "Why did you kill us? Why did you kill us?"
"Your Highness! Your Highness! That's Lady Chu!"
The female general held her, shouting loudly, but she could no longer hear. Huanhuan’s eyes were wide with fury as she screamed hysterically, "What have we done wrong? Why are you killing us? Ungrateful! Heartless and treacherous!"
Chu Qiao stared at her blankly, the wound on her wrist throbbing sharply. Her face was deathly pale as she vaguely recalled the first time she had met Huanhuan. The young girl had nestled close to her, generously gifting her the horse king, waving her small fists and declaring that after winning the battle, she would make Chu Qiao accompany her to Biantang. Pointing at the horse named A Tu, she insisted it would bear witness, her demeanor charmingly naive and spirited, as refreshing as the winds that perpetually swept across the Yanbei plateau.
"I hate you!"
A mouthful of blood sprayed out violently as Huanhuan burst into loud sobs, her voice gradually fading into soft, mournful cries: "Xiao He, Xiao He..."
Xiao He, Huanhuan wanted to marry you, but where have you gone?
Xiao He, I want to come find you, but you must walk slowly. My leg is injured—you must carry me.
Xiao He, I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Will you make roasted lamb leg for me?
Xiao He, Xiao He, Xiao He...
Huanhuan’s voice finally faded away. She lay on the cold ground, her fiery red skirt blooming like a bewitching flower. She was still so young this year, only twenty years old. Her youthful eyes had always sparkled brightly, her skin as fair as mare’s milk. And just like that, she fell asleep, eternally slumbering on the land to which she had devoted her entire life.
Chu Qiao’s heart was numb, as if already dead. Wave after wave of shock tore her apart, leaving her utterly shattered. Biting her lip, she stood there, gazing at Huanhuan’s corpse, her entire being feeling as though it had been cast into an icy abyss.
Yan Xun, what have you done?
"Commander!"
He Xiao approached steadily, his expression unreadable as he reported in a low voice, "He has arrived."
No longer willing to address him as "Your Majesty," Chu Qiao turned her head slightly. The army parted like a tide, making way. The morning sunlight fell upon the formidable sea of soldiers opposite, resembling a dark, boundless ocean. The young emperor stood at the center, surrounded by his troops, clad in black robes embroidered with golden dragons, his ink-black hair tied up. His eyes were cold as frost, his nose bridge high and straight. He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze profound and distant as it swept over.
Two years had passed. She had finally seen him again, yet why did Chu Qiao feel as though she had never truly known him? The person before her was so unfamiliar—his appearance, his status, his actions, his aura—everything felt alien. In that fleeting moment, she suddenly understood: the person before her was now the emperor of Yanbei, no longer the destitute youth who had relied on her for survival back in Zhenhuang City.
"A Chu."
A deep voice carried across the silent wilderness, accompanied by a biting wind that seeped into Chu Qiao’s ears.
Yan Xun looked at her, his eyes like ancient, unfathomable wells. Two years of time flowed between them, circumstances shifting relentlessly. They had finally reunited, yet it was under such circumstances.
Perhaps, regardless of fate or circumstance, their inherent convictions about humanity and their attitudes toward life had long destined them to one day walk this opposing path. Yan Xun’s heart suddenly felt like an empty wasteland, with fierce winds howling through it. He looked at Chu Qiao, wanting to say something, but in the end, he swallowed every word. Instead, with the authority of an emperor, he slowly asked, "Are you going to oppose me again for the sake of these unrelated people?"
Unrelated people?
A faint, cold smile of mockery curled at the corners of Chu Qiao’s lips.Without Mr. Wu, how could you have obtained the full financial support of Yanbei while imprisoned in Zhenhuang? For eight years, you planned meticulously and cultivated your own forces.
Without Miss Yu, how could you have escaped Zhenhuang City, leaped from that icy prison cell, and come to rule the vast lands of Yanbei, becoming the powerful overlord you are today?
And Huanhuan—she was your last remaining blood relative in this world. For years, she trusted and followed you, your dearest sister.
Will there come a day when I, Chu Qiao, standing before you, also become such an irrelevant person?
A cold laugh—besides that, she didn’t know what other reaction she could have. She was like a doll with its heart torn apart, her gaze icy as she stared at him, at this man she had once loved and supported with all her heart, feeling as though the past was nothing but an illusory dream, as fleeting as moonlight reflected in water or flowers in a mirror.
She had exchanged her loyalty and love for the current situation. The man who had once sworn to love and protect her for a lifetime now held a blade over her head. Surveillance, suspicion, exploitation, exclusion—this was all the repayment he gave her. He dangled so-called wealth and glory before her, tempting her as if rewarding a dog, unaware that in her eyes, those things were nothing but dirt and weeds. The cause and faith she had fought for and pursued were, in his eyes, merely a delusion unworthy of a second glance—an excuse and deception he used to blind the ignorant masses.
What of being an emperor? What of being the supreme ruler above all? In her eyes, he would always be just a man she had once devoted herself to, who had now utterly betrayed her.
He accused her of shifting her affections and setting her heart on another, not realizing that without his coercion and schemes, she would have remained forever as A Chu, loving and respecting him, never turning her gaze elsewhere in faithlessness. It was he who, step by step, pushed her away, forcing her to see his true face and nature—so how could there be any talk of betrayal?
Yan Xun, it took me ten years to see you clearly, and to see myself clearly as well. The past is now scattered like the east wind—toward you, I harbor not a trace of attachment, only endless heartache and regret.
"A Chu, have you forgotten the vows you once made?"
Yan Xun's cold voice rang in her ears. Chu Qiao laughed coldly, disdainfully raising her brow as she replied lightly, "Since you have already abandoned the dreams we once shared, why should I still hold fast to my vows to you?"
It was as if a sharp arrow had pierced Yan Xun's heart, letting in a chilling wind that brought with it threads of pain.
Finally, she had spoken such words. In the past, even if she felt resentment and bitterness, she had always kept those emotions buried deep within, silently enduring everything from him. Now, with the world bleak and desolate, she had finally said these words to his face.
"Yan Xun, from this day forward, we go our separate ways, with no further connection. Whether you live or die, whether you become a king or a defeated rebel, it has nothing to do with me. Likewise, my affairs are no longer any of your concern."
A strong wind swept through, lifting the fluttering edges of Chu Qiao's robes. The young woman's face was cold, her delicate features frosty, her eyes like the pristine snow atop a mountain peak, indifferently reflecting all the loves and hatreds of the world, while shutting out all unwarranted emotions far beyond a thousand miles.At that moment, Yan Xun suddenly realized that perhaps he was about to lose her forever. This thought made him uncontrollably panicked. In a low voice, he said, "A Chu, are you so heartless?"
"Yan Xun, don't speak of feelings anymore." Chu Qiao gazed at him indifferently, speaking calmly. "You don't deserve to."
Time was so fleeting; the vicissitudes of the years sparked the flames of fate in the meeting of their eyes. Eleven years—enough for a sapling to grow into a towering tree, for an era to collapse, for an emperor to rise. Time was so merciless, like a cold blade severing all their shared past, carving a deep chasm in the memories of their minds.
Once upon a time, they had joined hands in despair, shared their innermost thoughts in darkness, like two young beasts who had lost their homes, standing back-to-back, brandishing their sharp claws at all who had ever tried to harm them.
In the end, they fought their way out of that cage side by side, establishing their own power and status in this turbulent, chaotic world. Yet, the great tides of fate washed them further and further apart. Looking back, everything had already been stained with a bloody glow.
If they could have foreseen today's outcome from the very beginning, how would they have chosen? Would they still have clung together, fighting and struggling as one? After sharing hardships and weathering storms, after depending on each other for survival—was it all just so they could raise their swords against each other today?
Pale War Eagles swept across the sky, their fierce wings stretching over the horizon, blotting out the golden sun.
Twenty thousand imperial guards in black iron armor slowly drew their blades. Nine thousand Xiuli Army soldiers, standing in strict formation, watched them with expressionless faces. A long wind swept across the plain, like an ancient sacrificial chant humming low.
The world was filled with a killing aura; even the birds could not bear to watch, flapping their wings and departing in unison with a rustle. Only the fierce vultures circled overhead, as if awaiting a feast after the bloodshed.
Yanbei, in the end, you were not my place of rest. I ran and fought for you, exhausting my heart and soul, yet ultimately, I only pushed you from one pit of fire into another.
A fierce wind howled, lifting the stray hairs on the young woman's forehead. Everything became elusive and blurred. The world is so vast—why must one focus their gaze on a single spot? If the heart is cold, then who can still harm you?
A Chu, I will protect you...
Once upon a time, someone whispered this in her ear?
A Chu, trust me...
She closed her eyes, holding back her last tear. When she opened them again, they were clear and lucid. The sky was vast and desolate, eagles soaring past. Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye—who had trudged through them with difficulty? Who had been watching coldly from the Netherworld, eyes wide open?
Yan Xun, farewell.
————Divider————
"Yanbei Volume" concludes. The next chapter begins the final volume of this book, "Qinghai Volume."
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