Rebirth (Bing Hu Chong Sheng)

Throughout her life, she had never seen true heavy snow.

On this night with sparse stars, the moon appeared exceptionally brilliant, its snowy-white light spilling upon the ground like flowing water or shimmering snowflakes.

She stood atop the White Pagoda, clad in loose robes. The wind rolled in from the horizon, billowing her sleeves like eagles spreading their wings, ready to take flight. Her long hair, scattered by the wind, flew wildly behind her like countless spiderwebs. The vast palace complex lay shrouded in the dark night, and in the distant black stone square gate stood a figure whose face was unclear, though one could surmise from his upright posture that he was a soldier, and still young.

She had been standing like that for a long time.

Xuan Mo remained silent, watching her. The moonlight bathed her in a serene, radiant glow. The night was so quiet that all surrounding sounds seemed to vanish, leaving only the rustle of the wind through her robes and the faint scent of white orchids lingering around him.

For a moment, it felt as if he had returned to many years ago, when he was just a child standing with his father on the hunting grounds. His exceptional archery had won him praise from all, making him stand out among the royal and noble youths. Yet, she had charged into the arena on horseback, dressed in bright yellow palace attire, and with three consecutive arrows hit the bullseye. Turning around, she looked at him proudly and said, "If you're not convinced, come out and compete?"

That day, the emperor laughed heartily from his throne, declaring, "My daughter is no less capable than any son!"

The other nobles praised the princess's skill, but he alone stood quietly, looking up at the small figure on horseback. The sun was warm that day, the breeze gentle, and the light fell upon her delicate face, her eyes shining brilliantly. A warm, damp heat filled his chest, and the embroidered arrows on his sleeves brushed against his wrist, tingling faintly.

He said nothing. Standing before such a beautiful her, it seemed he had lost the ability to speak from that moment on. In the blink of an eye, so many years had passed, and he had grown accustomed to gazing up at that dazzling figure, watching from afar as she grew, as she became stronger, as she fell and rose again, step by step ascending to the pinnacle of power.

Time flowed so swiftly, like water slipping through one's fingers, effortlessly submerging the youthful stubbornness and the thoughts long buried in his heart, forever losing the chance to be spoken, covered by the sands of fate and buried in the rolling dust of time.

"Xuan Mo,"

Nalan spoke softly, her voice ethereal in the vast emptiness of the White Pagoda. Without turning around, her gaze still fixed on the glittering lights below, she asked quietly, "Did I truly make a mistake?"

"Your Highness has not made a mistake."

Nalan gave a light laugh, shaking her head calmly. "I'm afraid it was a mistake. Grand Tutor Cao might be right—by opening the door to invite thieves, I will eventually ruin the foundation of Huai Song."

"The emperor is gravely ill, the Nalan Clan has no heirs left, and the lineage of Huai Song can no longer be passed on.""Who says there is no successor?" Nalan's lips held a trace of calm indifference as she stated, "Prince Jinjiang, Prince Anli, and Prince Jianghuai—don't they all have the right to inherit the throne?"

Nalan spoke the truth. When the imperial bloodline could not continue, the royal branches had the qualification to inherit the throne, but...

Xuan Mo did not speak further. Silence enveloped the White Tower as wind blew through the corridor, carrying a damp chill that felt cold even in summer.

"In the end, my selfishness runs too deep. In my heart, family has always come before the nation."

Nalan seemed lost in thought, her gaze profound and distant. Years in high positions had long worn away the so-called innocence and purity in her bones. Even if occasional impulses and willfulness surfaced, they could not overcome her inner steadfastness and obstinacy.

Thinking of the recent actions and expressions of the imperial relatives, a cold, sharp glint involuntarily flashed in her eyes.

The Nalan Clan had founded this nation for centuries. Their ancestors had shed blood and sacrificed their lives on the battlefield for this vast land, defending their home and country. This realm was forged with the Nalan Clan's flesh and blood, something she had tirelessly protected all these years. And those people were nothing but parasites reaping the benefits—why should they deserve to rule this empire?

"This nation was built by the Nalan Clan with our own hands, and it was guarded generation after generation by my forefathers with their blood. Even if it must end, it should only end in the hands of the Nalan descendants. Others—they are unworthy."

Her low voice slowly rose. The pale moonlight spilled over her bright yellow robes, casting a cold and severe aura.

She said quietly, "Formally notify Yan Xun that I agree to his proposal. I ask him to honor his promise and treat the people of Huai Song well. The one who will inherit the throne must be my own child. Also, I want the head of the Prince of Taiping."

A cloud drifted by, gently shrouding the full moon, leaving only a faint glow. The earth was enveloped in darkness, and in the silence, it seemed as though something shattered instantly, scattering into pieces that drifted to the ends of the earth with the rising wind.

Xuan Mo nodded in the darkness and said, "Your subordinate obeys."

Nalan was silent for a moment before suddenly speaking again, "Notify Sima Yang to prepare the three armies and stand ready to cooperate with Yanbei in launching an attack on Daxia."

The man in the darkness immediately lifted his head, his eyes fixed intently on her, carrying a mix of shock and disbelief.

Nalan's breathing remained calm, as if she hadn't noticed his emotional turmoil at all. Instead, she said coolly, "Xuan Mo, pirates have invaded the East Sea again. This time, I still rely on you to defend our eastern borders for me."

For a moment, the White Tower fell into utter silence. Xuan Mo stood tall and straight like a poplar tree, his gaze fixed on her, traversing the years of their shared past, ultimately condensing into a wordless silence.

As childhood companions, he, a Crown Prince of a principality, had served as her personal guard, watching her youthful innocence and radiant beauty.

When the emperor passed away, he knelt before his father's door for three days and nights, pleading with him to abandon his ambitions of usurping the throne and instead support the young emperor and her, the elder princess.For so many years, he had always stood behind her, obeying her every command, serving as her most loyal subject and most trusted subordinate. Even when ordered to marry the daughter of a powerful minister for political alliance, he never once objected.

But now, with the emperor critically ill, the Great Song's sovereignty hanging by a thread, and Yanbei's iron cavalry advancing, she chose this moment to send him away to the East Sea frontier.

Yet, in just an instant, he understood the reasoning behind it. His gaze gradually calmed, returning to his usual composure and coolness. He knelt down and said solemnly, "Your humble servant obeys the command."

For a moment, Nalan's heart had been suspended. Only when he quietly knelt and spoke in his characteristically calm voice—"Your humble servant obeys the command"—did she unconsciously loosen her clenched fist. She turned around, her peerless beauty as exquisite as a painting, her eyes outlined with gold powder, radiating an intimidating blend of elegance and dignity. Feeling the need to explain, she said, "A fierce battle between Yanbei and Daxia is inevitable. The battlefield will be brutal, and you are the only one I can trust. I don't want to see anything happen to you."

Xuan Mo remained bowed, replying calmly, "Your humble servant understands."

Nalan took a deep breath and chuckled softly, "Alright, rise. Between you and me, there's no need for such formalities."

But Xuan Mo did not stand. He knelt there, the silver moonlight above him, as dark crows flapped their wings across the silent sky. The night wind rustled through his billowing robes, embroidered with nine-coiled pythons—the emblem of a high-ranking official, sharp as a cold blade that could harm others as well as himself.

Slowly, he drew several items from his robe and placed them one by one on the white jade steps. Nalan frowned, about to speak, when Xuan Mo said quietly, "Your humble servant does not know when he will return. I hereby return to Your Highness the command of the Capital Garrison and the Xuan Army."

Nalan immediately wanted to refuse, but her gaze fell upon the two tokens, and she froze momentarily. The Capital Garrison originally belonged to the Ministry of War. Back when she and Xuan Mo had joined forces to defeat the Minister of War, they had taken control of it, and over the years, Xuan Mo had commanded it. As for the Xuan Army, it was Xuan Mo's personal guard, exceptionally powerful and considered one of Great Song's elite forces. Almost involuntarily, she stepped forward, smiling as she helped Xuan Mo to his feet, saying, "Very well, I will keep them for you. When you return, I will give them back."

Xuan Mo stood tall before Nalan, a head taller than her. His slender eyes were like a cold lake, gazing at her quietly—not disrespectfully, yet with a hint of boldness.

Nalan looked up, her delicate chin curving softly. She smiled faintly at him, her eyes sparkling as if shimmering with light.

"Though Prince Taiping has already defected, Prince Jinjiang and the others are not easy to deal with. After your humble servant departs, Your Highness must take care of yourself."

Nalan smiled and said, "Xuan Mo, how many years have you known me? Do you still not trust me?"

Xuan Mo bowed his head. "Your Highness is divinely gifted. Your humble servant spoke out of turn."

"Enough with the formalities. We have known each other for many years, supporting each other along the way—both ruler and subject, and close friends. I promise you, no matter what fate awaits Huai Song in the future, as long as I hold any authority, I will ensure your Xuan King's Mansion and its entire household are honored and favored."Fingertips chilled, the night dew slowly crept onto the hem of his robe, dampening the dragon's scaled claws. Xuan Mo bowed and said, "Thank you, Your Highness. It is late. If there is nothing else, this humble official will take his leave."

Nalan had intended to offer a few more words of advice, but at this point, she found herself at a loss. She nodded and said, "The night is dark. Have the servants light an extra lantern."

"Yes, this humble official will remember."

With that, Xuan Mo bowed to Nalan, turned, and walked toward the corridor. Moonlight filtered through the intermittent lattice windows, casting pale streaks across the path. Xuan Mo's back was straight, his steps steady as he gradually disappeared into the dappled light and shadow. A long while later, he finally descended the White Tower and walked across the vast square. The night enveloped him like thick fog, and from the tower, Nalan could only see a faint silhouette.

The night wind was strong, lifting the strands of hair at Nalan's temples. She stood there motionless, like a statue of white jade, for a long time.

She recalled her childhood, when pirates from the East Sea harassed the borders. Her father, the emperor, had personally led the army into battle. At that time, the empire was powerful, its military abundant, and the lands prosperous. She could not understand why her father, with such an army at his command, would still go to the battlefield himself. As a young girl, she had tugged at her father's sleeve and asked in confusion, "Father, why must you lead the expedition yourself?"

In that moment, her father's eyes were as vast as the ocean, boundless and unfathomable. He patted her head affectionately and said quietly, "There is no particular reason. It is simply because if you do not take on certain responsibilities, no one else will."

Back then, she had not understood her father's words. But now, she suddenly did.

In this world, everyone has their own helplessness, their own unavoidable circumstances.

A single misstep on her part had allowed the faction of the Prince of Taiping to succeed in poisoning the already deaf young emperor. The poor child, not only deaf, now had little time left due to the poison. Once the emperor passed away, Huai Song would surely fall into chaos. Princes like Jinjiang and Huai'an were already stirring, waiting for their chance. When that time came, her Nalan lineage would be extinguished from this world.

She could not accept it. Over the years, she had poured her heart and soul into governing the court and diligently assisting the young ruler. Yet, every day, the imperial relatives wished for her death. Had her ancestors fought on the battlefield only to pave the way for others? After years of unwavering dedication, how could she let the kingdom fall into the hands of those scoundrels?

Yanbei's dominance was already a foregone conclusion. Biantang was in turmoil, Huai Song was in turmoil, and Daxia was embroiled in chaos. At such a time, rather than waiting for Qing'er to die and handing the kingdom over to those scheming imperial relatives, it would be better to use the kingdom as a bargaining chip to secure the safety of Huai Song's people and the preservation of her Nalan lineage. After all, she still had her gravely ill mother, Yu'er had three young daughters, and there were loyal old ministers who remained faithful to the legitimate throne...

Perhaps it was better to accept his proposal. This way, the Nalan Clan would retain its honor, the two nations would form an alliance to pursue greater ambitions, and she could fulfill her long-cherished aspirations. Moreover, was this not what she had yearned for all these years?

The nine palace gates swung open, and Xuan Mo's figure gradually vanished into the boundless darkness.

Suddenly, she felt a pang of unease, as if something had departed, dissipating into the mournful night, quietly fading away.Regarding the decision to send Xuan Mo to the Eastern Frontier, she had no other choice. The military's opposition to this campaign was too strong; without employing overwhelming force, it would be impossible to suppress their dissent. Xuan Mo, being lenient in his command, was ill-suited for such a task. With him present, he would only hinder Sima Yang, preventing him from fully consolidating the army and coordinating with Yanbei.

Moreover, the recent rebellion of the Prince of Taiping had made her realize the importance of military power. Xuan Mo's prestige within the army far surpassed her own. In times of peace, she could still rely on the court and the populace to control him, but now, with the situation so chaotic, she had no choice but to take precautions.

She could only hope he would not resent her.

On the empty imperial road, Xuan Mo walked silently, his personal attendant Jiang Wu following cautiously by his side. A carriage trailed behind, its wheels rumbling softly.

The Grand Princess trusted the Xuan King, and the Xuan King's Mansion was located close to the imperial palace. Before they even reached the mansion, they could see several lanterns glowing warmly at the entrance, their red hues evoking a sense of comfort.

"The Prince has returned."

Princess Yushu, draped in a moon-white silk dress, appeared elegant and serene under the lamplight. She took the lantern from Xuan Mo's hand and asked in surprise, "Why is Your Highness carrying an unlit lantern?"

Xuan Mo paused slightly and looked down. The pale jade palace lantern was indeed unlit, its thin jade panels looking like glass under the other lights, as if they might shatter at the slightest touch.

He said softly, "I forgot."

With that, he strode ahead toward the mansion. Yushu picked up a cloak to drape over his shoulders but accidentally brushed his hand. She exclaimed in alarm, "Your Highness's hand is so cold!"

Xuan Mo replied indifferently, "It's nothing."

He then headed straight for the study.

Yushu stood where she was, watching his figure disappear around a few turns in the garden. The soft white cloak in her hand fluttered lightly in the wind, like a kite caught in a breeze.

"Your Highness?"

Her personal maid stood nearby, slightly awkward, and whispered, "The night wind is strong. Please return to your chambers."

Yushu nodded slowly, then turned around, her expression gentle once more. With a faint smile, she said, "The Prince must be hungry after returning so late. Go to the kitchen and have the chef prepare a few light dishes."

The maid sighed helplessly and replied, "Yes, I will go at once. But please rest early, Your Highness. Your health is not good, and you must not stay up late again."

Yushu did not respond, only urging, "Hurry along."

After the maid left, Yushu turned back and saw a candle lit in the study across the corridor. A slender figure stood by the window, the flickering light casting an ethereal, graceful silhouette.

As she watched, Yushu suddenly smiled. Pressing her lips together, she led her maids to the tea room, where several boxes of fine tea had recently arrived. Later, she could brew some for him to taste.

In the study, Xuan Mo spread out a sheet of high-quality Lanting paper, dipped his brush in ink, and held it poised above the paper, yet he did not write for a long time.

With a soft plop, a drop of ink fell, spreading into a large blot on the paper. He did not seem to notice, lost in thought.

Jiang Wu, standing nearby, cautiously suggested, "Your Highness, shall I replace the paper for you?"

Xuan Mo glanced down, then, expression unchanged, crumpled the paper and tossed it casually onto the floor.Jiang Wu instinctively shrank his neck. Having served Xuan Mo for seven or eight years, he understood his master's temperament well—a man whose emotions never showed on his face. Seeing him like this, he knew Xuan Mo must be in an extremely foul mood.

Xuan Mo tossed aside the paper in his hand, pulled over a fresh sheet, and stared at the blank xuan paper for a long moment before lowering his head to write.

He wrote swiftly, filling an entire page in mere moments. After finishing, he handed it to Jiang Wu and said, "Deliver this to the Ministry of Rites first thing tomorrow morning. Give it to Minister Yu and have him send someone to Baizhi Pass to hand it personally to Yan Xun."

Jiang Wu was taken aback, his heart skipping a beat, but he quickly nodded. "Understood, my lord."

Seeing that his master had no further instructions, he quietly withdrew.

The envelope was already sealed, and of course, he dared not open it. As he walked away, he pondered: Rumors said the imperial family intended to form a marriage alliance with Yanbei—could it be true? If so, would Huai Song in the future bear the surname Nalan or Yan? Had Prince Taiping's assassination attempt actually succeeded a few days ago?

The schemes of such powerful figures were beyond the comprehension of someone like him. After mulling it over briefly, Jiang Wu gave up and, lured by the aroma from the kitchen, slipped away to idle.

Xuan Mo sat in his study, leaning back against the nanmu chair carved with nine-dragon patterns, and slowly closed his eyes.

News of the marriage alliance between Yanbei and Huai Song quickly spread across the land of Ximeng. In these turbulent times, this union clearly forged an alliance between the two nations. Soon, Huai Song's navy assembled at Huangfu Sea, eyeing Daxia menacingly, poised to advance and retreat alongside Yanbei at any moment.

That night, Baizhi Pass remained shrouded in a cold, deathly silence. Since the Yanbei Army had taken control of the pass, its former bustle had vanished entirely.

During the second watch, a group of soldiers clad in black camouflage uniforms, their faces painted with grease, slowly emerged at the base of the pass.

Chu Qiao stood at the center of the group, reiterating the rules of the operation once more.

First, indiscriminate sniping—anyone who posed a threat or might raise an alarm was to be eliminated swiftly and cleanly. Second, Squad One would create chaos within the city, while Squad Two would drive horse herds from the northeast, inciting panic among the garrison troops and creating the illusion of a large-scale Daxia Army attack. Third, the remaining forces would wait outside the city, ready to support their comrades and seize the opportunity to cross the pass amid the confusion.

Time ticked by minute by minute. The moment the third watch drum sounded, He Qi led Squad One, moving like ghosts as they swiftly advanced toward Baizhi Pass.

Simultaneously, Squad Two set off toward the pre-arranged horse teams in the northeast.

In the darkness, He Qi and the elite soldiers of the Xiuli Army crawled forward, soon disappearing from sight. Chu Qiao waited in the dense forest with a few of her personal guards. She sat quietly, repeatedly running through the entire plan in her mind, searching for flaws and loopholes.

Once, twice, three times.

Alright, no issues. She took a deep breath and waited quietly for the signal.After about half an hour, a thunderous sound of hoofbeats suddenly erupted from the northeast. The pounding of hooves was like rolling thunder, interspersed with the furious shouts of soldiers. The dust kicked up by branches tied to the horses' tails blotted out the moon in the sky, creating the illusion of hundreds of thousands of troops charging forth. The walls of Baizhi Pass immediately erupted into chaos as everyone's attention was drawn to the northeast.

Soon, the northeastern gate of Baizhi Pass swung open, and two squads of scouts quietly rushed out. But before they could get close, the Xiuli Army stationed outside the gate swiftly eliminated them.

Another half an hour passed, and flames suddenly flared up inside the city. Chu Qiao immediately rose to her feet and said in a low voice, "The time has come. Let's go!"

Along the banks of the Chishui River, the pre-prepared rafts were pushed onto the water. Chu Qiao led her subordinates onto the rafts, speeding along the waterway toward Biantang.

The Yanbei Army consisted entirely of cavalry and heavy infantry, without a single naval unit. Having hastily taken over Baizhi Pass, they certainly couldn't fully defend such a vast water area. With enemies attacking from both inside and outside, this Chishui water route was now the best passage to Biantang.

However, less than an incense stick's time into their journey, the sound of rushing water was suddenly heard ahead. Chu Qiao immediately drew her strong bow, pulling it to full draw in an instant. With a sharp whistle, a scream cut through the darkness, followed immediately by the lighting of hundreds of torches. About five hundred warships revealed themselves in the pitch-black night.

A series of urgent sounds followed as dozens of long spears thrust from all directions. A Yanbei officer standing at the bow of a ship raised his sword and shouted, "Die, traitors!"

Rows of arrows were nocked, their cold tips aimed at Chu Qiao and her companions. The officer fiercely swung down his sword, and the soldiers pulled their crossbow triggers. Volleys of arrows shot forth instantly.

"Jump!"

He Xiao suddenly roared. The next moment, the Xiuli Army collectively leaped into the vast Chishui River. Crossbow bolts pattered down, densely embedding themselves in the small boats and rafts, yet leaving no trace of blood.

"Commander, they jumped into the river!"

Someone shouted, but soon soldiers began crying out in alarm: "General! The ships are leaking!"

Following this, countless voices rose one after another. Many ship hulls had been smashed, and river water came rushing in. In the blink of an eye, three small vessels sank. Yanbei soldiers who couldn't swim struggled in the river clutching floating wood, their desperate screams echoing across the water surface. Torches crackled, creating chaos all around.

"They're underneath us!"

The general roared in fury, shouting loudly: "Use stone catapults! Use spears! Crush them! Stab them to death!"

"General, we can't! There are still our men in the river!"

"Get lost!"

The aide who had been angrily rebuked still wanted to shout something, but was pulled aside by his comrades. One of them complained indignantly: "But His Majesty said to capture them alive!"

Others quickly retorted: "Alive? We might not even catch them dead, let alone alive!"

Torches lit up the sky as massive stones flew through the air.

The general bellowed angrily, and his subordinates quickly loaded the stone catapults. Rows of spearmen also rushed forward. The next moment, rumbling sounds filled the air as massive stones crashed into the water. Spears fell like rain, sharply piercing into the Chishui River. The river surface immediately churned with waves of red mist, blood swirling like crimson clouds.

The attacks came wave after wave. Gradually, the river surface calmed. All of Chu Qiao's rafts had been smashed to pieces, with nearly a thousand raft fragments forming a floating bridge that piled up in layers beneath the Yanbei warships.

The sounds of battle gradually ceased. The hastily assembled Yanbei naval soldiers looked puzzled at the calm river surface, frowning as they asked: "Are they all dead? Why haven't they floated up yet?"

"Look!"

Someone suddenly shouted. Everyone followed the sound and saw, far behind them on the distant river surface, countless heads densely emerging. These people floated on the water while taking off their upper garments. Several gathered together, and moments later, everyone rose to the surface, swiftly moving with the current downstream.The general stared in astonishment and demanded angrily, "What is that?"

A seasoned veteran who had seen much of the world replied uncertainly, "It seems to be sheepskin rafts."

"After them, quickly!"

"General, those broken pieces of wood are blocking the way. The ships can't move for the time being."

The general stood frozen in place. He had never imagined that despite possessing such overwhelming advantages—sturdy ships, sharp arrows, and the strategic advantage of defense—he would still allow these people to slip away right under his nose. Nearly sixty thousand sailors of the Yanbei Army stood on their massive warships, watching the figures of their enemies gradually vanish into the thick darkness of the night, unable to snap out of their daze for a long time.

After reuniting with He Qi and the others, Chu Qiao tallied the casualties and discovered that over three thousand soldiers had perished in the recent battle. Among them, two thousand had died under the stone artillery and spears of the Yanbei Army.

Nevertheless, achieving a full-scale breakthrough through Baizhi Pass at such a cost was an unimaginable victory. However, this was not the end. Although they had left Baizhi Pass behind, they had successfully drawn the attention of the Yanbei Army, and the vast territory beyond Baizhi Pass remained under Yanbei's control.

Chu Qiao made a swift decision and led the troops into the mountains. Two days later, they encountered the enemy's first ambush. Over the next three days, the two sides clashed more than twenty times, with the Xiuli Army emerging victorious in most engagements. After all, compared to the Yanbei Army, which excelled in cavalry tactics, the Xiuli Army was more adept at field battles and close-range sniping. Under Chu Qiao's military leadership, this force fought while retreating, rapidly advancing toward the territory governed by the legitimate imperial court of Biantang.

Just as they were about to exit the mountains and enter the Han River region, however, the Yanbei Army suddenly set the mountains ablaze. The fire raged for four consecutive days, spreading across the entire Qiu Tang mountain range. Many villages in the mountainous areas were affected, resulting in countless casualties.

Left with no choice, Chu Qiao had to lead the troops out of the mountains ahead of schedule. Due to the forest fire, they lost their way and emerged over three hundred li off course. Despite having veteran soldiers like the Wolf Army who were familiar with the terrain, they once again crossed paths with the Yanbei Army early the next morning.

The Battle of Likangyuan resulted in heavy casualties on both sides. Chu Qiao led three thousand elite troops in a charge against the enemy camp, where the enemy commander was unfortunately struck by a stray arrow during the fight, leaving his fate uncertain. Yet, the Yanbei Army proved itself worthy of its reputation as the continent's top iron army. Even with their commander injured, they maintained their formation, fighting while retreating and putting up a tenacious resistance.

The main force had poor mobility, but fortunately, they had seized a large number of warhorses in previous battles. After the Battle of Likangyuan, Chu Qiao divided the army into ten small units, each comprising four thousand soldiers. The units were spaced less than two li apart and advanced in a fan-shaped formation toward the Han River Pass.

However, upon reaching Nanli County, Chu Qiao suddenly fell ill. In truth, she had been feeling unwell for five days, suffering from stabbing abdominal pain, fever, dizziness, dry heaving, and weakness in her limbs. Only due to the urgency of the war had she persevered with sheer willpower. But now, having temporarily shaken off the pursuit of the Yanbei Army, her condition worsened. He Xiao, disregarding her objections, stationed the troops outside the city and brought her into Nanli City.Although civil war had broken out in Biantang and Yanbei's army was passing through its territory, the extent of domestic devastation was far less severe than in Daxia. Major cities still maintained their original prosperity; aside from inflated prices due to the war, there was almost no other impact.

He Xiao sent someone to fetch a physician. Chu Qiao, who had been drowsy earlier, now found herself unable to sleep. Lying on the clean bed, she stared blankly at the bed curtains, her thoughts drifting like distant clouds.

When the Yanbei Army pursued them, they repeatedly shouted "traitors," meaning they knew her identity. Indeed, with Yan Xun's intelligence, he must have guessed that at this critical moment, the only one who would dare risk death to break through the pass was her—the King Xiuli personally appointed by Li Ce.

That meant Yan Xun intended to kill her.

It made sense. Now that Yan Xun had formed an alliance with the Princess of Jing'an, while she was leading troops to aid Li Xiuyi, as the commander of Baizhi Pass, he naturally had to help his ally intercept her at the pass. On the battlefield, even fathers and sons show no mercy, let alone them?

She understood this well.

Yan Xun was increasingly demonstrating the authority of a hegemon—decisive, ruthless, bold yet meticulous, and astonishingly skillful. The Yan Xun of today was no longer the child who had cowered in the Holy Gold Palace over a decade ago, no longer needing to defer to anyone.

The physician arrived quickly. He Xiao stood behind the doctor, watching nervously as he took her pulse.

The white-bearded old physician pondered for a long moment before suddenly smiling and saying, "Congratulations, sir. Your wife is with child."

He Xiao was momentarily stunned, then his face flushed bright red. He hurriedly explained to the physician, "Don't speak nonsense! This is my lady, I'm merely her guard."

Hearing this, the physician immediately apologized, saying with a smile that he had mistaken He Xiao for the father due to his apparent concern, and asked for forgiveness.

As He Xiao and the physician exchanged words, Chu Qiao sat frozen, as if struck by a blade to her very marrow. Her mouth slightly agape, she remained speechless for a long time.

What did he say? With child? She was pregnant?

She stared incredulously at the old physician and asked in disbelief, "What did you say? Say it again?"

"Madam, you've been far too careless. You've been pregnant for nearly three months—how could you not have noticed? Moreover, your constitution is very poor, and your pulse is quite erratic. If you don't rest peacefully, this pregnancy could be in serious danger."

Three months?

Chu Qiao lowered her head, looking at her still-flat abdomen. How was it possible? She was actually pregnant? While she was waiting to be married, while she was fighting north and south, while she was wading through rivers and charging through hails of arrows on horseback—all that time, there had been a child in her womb?

"I'll prescribe you a tonic to nourish your blood and qi, along with medicine to stabilize the pregnancy. You must take it properly and rest peacefully. You absolutely must not endure the hardships of long journeys or exhausting labor."

After comforting her with a few more words, the old physician left with He Xiao. Chu Qiao remained sitting on the bed, still in a daze. These recent days had brought constant bad news, with the war surging unpredictably. Everything had been crashing over her like giant waves. Yet, in such circumstances, she had actually become pregnant.

She reached out a trembling hand and gently covered her lower abdomen, faintly imagining she could hear the weak heartbeat of the child.A single tear suddenly slid from the corner of her eye. She gently bit her lower lip, a sob caught in her throat, and she wept silently without a sound.

Zhuge Yue, I'm carrying your child.

I have a child.

Night gradually fell. He Xiao lit a candle in the room and brought some nourishing food and soup to replenish her energy. He walked to Chu Qiao's bedside and quietly asked, "My Lady, are we still going to Tang Capital? Perhaps we should change our route and return directly to Qinghai?"

Chu Qiao raised her head to look at him, her gaze fixed and vacant, but she said nothing.

"My Lady, your current condition is not suitable for leading troops. If not for your own sake, you should think of the Fourth Young Master and the child in your womb."

Chu Qiao trembled at his words. She lowered her head to look at her stomach and remained silent. After a long while, she finally looked up and said softly, "He Xiao, I've already deceived him once."

He Xiao was taken aback, unsure who she was referring to, and asked, "My Lady, what do you mean?"

"I've already deceived him once." Chu Qiao's gaze was calm and distant as she stared at the candle flame. "I told him I would stay by his side to protect him, to prevent others from bullying him again, but I failed to keep that promise. He has no parents left. If I only think of my own child, who will think of him?"

He Xiao suddenly understood that she was speaking of the Tang Emperor, Li Xiuyi. Frowning, he said, "My Lady, at this point, the situation is beyond what one person can change. Even if you had remained in Biantang, you might not have been able to prevent what has happened today. Your health is poor—you must avoid overthinking and should not bear all the burdens yourself."

Chu Qiao lifted her head and took a deep breath.

"He Xiao, there are some responsibilities in this world that cannot be escaped."

A faint smile touched her lips as she said calmly, "I have received great kindness from Li Ce and from Biantang. Now is the time to repay that debt. I think if I were to abandon that child to danger without a second thought, my own child would one day look down on me."

She sat up, put on her shoes, walked to the table, and began to eat. After finishing her meal, she dutifully drank her medicine.

Under the lamplight, she appeared frail and weak—who could tell she was a mother three months pregnant?

"Don't worry, everything will be fine."

He Xiao looked at her, momentarily unsure whom she was referring to—herself, the child in her womb, or the current Tang Emperor.

The night wind was chilly, rustling the willow branches outside the window.

The landscapes of Biantang remained unchanged, yet the footsteps of war were drawing near.

Meanwhile, in the main tent at Baizhi Pass, Yan Xun lounged on a couch dressed in dark robes. Below him stood more than ten young beauties recently sent by local wealthy merchants, each clad in sheer silk with partially exposed clothing, appearing delicate and alluring.

From time to time, a bold young woman would glance up secretly at the man who held immense power. Unfortunately, his gaze never once drifted in their direction.

"Your Majesty, we have deployed our forces and will surely annihilate the Xiuli Army at Hanshui Pass."

"Guards!"

Yan Xun suddenly looked up and beckoned outside. Immediately, personal guards entered.

"Drag him out and give him twenty strokes with the army rod!"The personal guards immediately seized the staff officer and began dragging him out. The man, unaware of what he had said wrong, hurriedly pleaded for forgiveness but dared not beg for mercy. Soon, agonized screams echoed, causing the kneeling young women to turn pale with fear, none daring to lift their heads again.

"Wipe them all out..."

Yan Xun softly repeated these four words, his tone betraying no emotion. The candlelight cast a faint golden glow on his face, as if veiled in a thin layer of gold leaf.

He lounged lazily on the couch, lying on his side as he drifted into sleep, ignoring the many charming beauties kneeling below. Moments later, he was deep in slumber.

That night, though separated by thousands of miles, they spoke the same words at the same time.

"I hope we don't meet him (her)."

Vaguely, it was many, many years ago. Under a dilapidated eaves, a girl in a light pink padded jacket, her cheeks flushed, rubbed her hands together as she sat by the lamplight sewing clothes. While stitching, she turned to the young man and said, "On the battlefield, there are no fathers or sons—everything is for the nation's benefit. Even blood brothers cannot retreat in battle. I'm not telling you the Romance of the Sui and Tang Dynasties now; I'm recounting Tang history. That's fictionalized drama; this is the official history. Listen carefully."

"What official history? I've never heard of it."

"Just listen properly and learn seriously."

"If you were Li Shimin, would you kill your elder brother too?"

"Of course I'd kill him. Should I wait for him to kill me? Didn't I tell you? They had no affection left by then. By the way, what about you? Wouldn't you kill him?"

The young man pondered silently for a moment before suddenly saying, "If it were me, I'd have killed him when fighting Liu Wuzhou."

The girl was taken aback, then raised her thumb in approval. "You're ruthless."

...

The funeral-like night enveloped heaven and earth, pressing down on the ripples of memory until not a sound could escape.

The next day, someone secretly left Baizhi Pass, galloping all the way to Hanshui. There, a hundred thousand troops were stationed—all elite forces of Yanbei. Their mission was twofold: to aid the Jing'an Princess Consort and to guard the enemy's lifeline while securing their own retreat.

On the same day, Chu Qiao met up with the remaining soldiers of the Xiuli Army and the Wolf Army in Nanli County. Forty thousand troops gathered in the wilderness, their dark war blades raised like a sprawling forest.

"Hanshui is the only route northwest from Tang Capital. Without breaking through Hanshui, we cannot relieve the siege of Tang Capital."

Chu Qiao's snow-white finger traced the map, drawing a circle around Hanshui Pass as she said gravely, "The battle that will decide our fate is about to begin."