Yan Xun and Chu Qiao rode together on a single horse, galloping across the vast, empty snowfield.
"Girl, come back to Yanbei with me!"
"No."
"You have no choice," the young man laughed brightly. "Let's see where you can run this time."
The horse's hooves shattered the tranquility of the plains as a fierce wind howled across the land. The thunderous sound of pursuing hooves rolled closer like distant rumbling thunder. Chu Qiao gripped Yan Xun's arm tightly and said in a low voice, "Madman, are people chasing after you?"
Yan Xun responded with a carefree, unconcerned laugh. "It's nothing. Yanbei is vast and rich in resources. If the Wei Clan wants to follow along, so be it."
Chu Qiao frowned deeply, frequently turning to look back. Seeing the snow line gradually thickening from a single thread into a solid wall, she knew their pursuers were numerous. The girl bit her lower lip, scanning the terrain left and right, and said angrily, "Are you insane? You know someone wants you dead, yet you still dared to return?"
Yan Xun raised an eyebrow, repeating the same words: "If I didn't come back, what would you do?"
Chu Qiao's eyes suddenly felt sore. She looked up at Yan Xun's smooth chin—he really was just a child, not even grown a beard yet, a pampered noble who recklessly fooled around without regard for his life. The girl was momentarily dazed. Seeing this, Yan Xun laughed heartily and teased, "What, so moved you want to pledge yourself to me? No need. You're still too young—who knows what you'll grow up to look like? How about this: just follow me, Crown Prince, and we'll see how things go."
"Yanbei rebels! Dismount and surrender at once!"
A sudden roar erupted across the plains. The previously playful Yan Xun raised an eyebrow and grinned, "Hey, looks like we've got more trouble." As he spoke, he whipped the horse, not slowing down but instead speeding up even more.
The black war armor appeared particularly menacing and mountain-like in the night. The urgent hoofbeats closed in like rolling thunder, and thousands of snow waves surged upward like an avalanche from Cangji Peak, their momentum awe-inspiring. The ground beneath them trembled violently, as if ancient beasts had awakened, ready to burst through the earth and leap out like dragons.
"Hold on tight!" The young man's expression suddenly turned as hard as iron, his sword-like eyebrows furrowed. Gripping the reins tightly, he let out a sharp shout. The warhorse instantly reared up, neighing loudly as it charged forward like the wind. The cold air whistled past their ears like sharp knives, their speed reaching its peak as they quickly left their pursuers far behind.
"Haha!" Hearty laughter erupted immediately. The Yanbei warriors laughed in unison, looking back at the stunned faces of the Wei Clan soldiers. The young page Feng Mian laughed loudly, "Crown Prince, it's time to let these noble young masters see what a true Yanbei warhorse is like."
Yan Xun laughed brightly, "Good, let's open their eyes."
As soon as he finished speaking, the Yanbei cavalry uniformly pulled their reins and whistled with their fingers. A clear, resonant signal suddenly rang out. Just as everyone was wondering what was happening, the warhorses beneath Yan Xun and his men abruptly reared up. The manes on their necks stood straight like lions, their piercing neighs tearing through the sky with unparalleled majesty and kingly dominance, making one's blood surge and chest feel tight. The warhorses of the Zhenhuang imperial soldiers whinnied in distress upon hearing this, their legs going weak as they collapsed to the ground. No matter how the generals who had received the royal command whipped them, they refused to stand up again.Chu Qiao was greatly astonished. The young page Feng Mian grinned smugly and explained, "Our Yanbei warhorses are bred from the mare king at the foot of Tianmu Mountain mating with wild wolves. Not only are they extremely fast, but they can also summon wolf packs to aid in battle. The horses raised by those young masters of noble families in the capital have never even been on a battlefield—just hearing the wolves would scare the piss out of them. Thinking they can catch up to us is nothing but wishful thinking."
The Yanbei soldiers roared with laughter. The strong wind howled, and Yan Xun's heavy fur cloak flapped fiercely in the northern gale. The young man sat high on his horse and declared clearly, "Let's go, back to Yanbei!"
The soldiers shouted in unison, "Back to Yanbei!"
Hooves thundered, churning up snow mist. Under the pitch-black sky, the Yanbei warriors whipped their horses and charged away abruptly.
But at that moment, a sense of crisis suddenly seized her heart. The alertness born from years of dangerous work screamed like a countdown timer. Before she could even ponder where this inexplicable tension came from, a sharp whistling sound pierced through the night, carrying thunderous momentum as it shot toward them from afar. With no time to react, in the blink of an eye, Chu Qiao punched Yan Xun hard in the abdomen. Grunting in pain, Yan Xun bent over, about to curse her for biting the hand that fed her, when a powerful arrow suddenly pierced through his left shoulder, exiting from his back. Blood gushed out with terrifying force. The young man's body instantly flew off his horse like a kite with its string cut, crashing onto the frozen snow!
"Yan Xun!"
Chu Qiao screamed in horror, yanking hard on the reins. But the warhorse, galloping at full speed, showed no fear of the reins' pull and continued charging forward uncontrollably. Desperate, she leaped up abruptly, her small body jumping off the horse's back. She executed a forward roll and landed steadily in a crouch on the snowy plain.
"Yan Xun!" She rushed forward like a swift leopard. The young man had already staggered to his feet by then. She quickly supported his shoulder and asked urgently, "Are you alright?"
The young man's eyes were icy, his brows tightly furrowed. "I'm not dead yet."
With a "whoosh," another powerful arrow shot toward them. Chu Qiao tracked the sound and swung her blade fiercely. The arrow came with such speed that it sparked against the blade, illuminating the long, dark night.
"Drop your weapons!"
A unified, low shout erupted simultaneously. Countless soldiers emerged as if from nowhere beneath the snowy plain—a full thousand mounted troops, all clad in white fur cloaks. They had been lying flat on the snow earlier, which was why the warhorses had failed to detect any trace of them. Cold blades pointed uniformly at the two, forming an impenetrable forest of steel. In the distance, fierce clashes erupted simultaneously—clearly, the Yanbei soldiers who hadn't disengaged in time were already trapped in heavy ambushes and encirclement.
From behind the crowd, a young man in a black fur cloak rode forward. Beneath his cloak, his brocade robe was embroidered with a golden auspicious dragon, one sharp claw coiled menacingly on the collar, gleaming glaringly under the flickering torchlight. Zhao Che narrowed his eyes slightly and snorted coldly. "I knew the Wei family wouldn't get the job done."The sharp blades were pressed against their necks. The child glanced sideways and saw the distinctive purple magnolia golden flower emblem of Shengjin Palace engraved on the blades, immediately recognizing them as imperial guards. The Seventh Prince, who had been enfeoffed as a prince at a young age, cast a cold glance at Yan Xun, then let his gaze linger briefly on the young Chu Qiao before speaking sternly to his attendants, "Take them back."
"Seventh Prince," one attendant stepped forward, his eyes drifting toward the Yanbei warriors still engaged in fierce combat in the distance, and asked quietly, "What about the rest?"
Zhao Che frowned slightly and snorted coldly, "Those who defy the royal decree and betray their country and lord—what use is there in keeping them alive?"
The attendant understood immediately and shouted toward the distance, "By the order of the Seventh Prince, those who betray their country and lord shall be executed without mercy!"
A thunderous response erupted instantly, and in the blink of an eye, a dense volley of arrows shot forth like locusts. The Yanbei warriors, who had been laughing heartily with bold passion moments before, were instantly transformed into lifeless corpses, collapsing heavily onto the cold, snowy ground. Chu Qiao seethed with anger, her ears filled with Feng Mian's furious curses. She clenched her fists tightly and glared coldly at Zhao Che, who sat high upon his horse. Just then, a guard from Shengjin Palace approached, and the child's slight struggle caught the attention of the lofty prince.
Zhao Che looked her up and down, frowning slightly. She seemed familiar, yet he couldn't recall where he had seen her before.
"Drag the irrelevant ones away and behead them."
"Who dares!" a sharp cry suddenly rang out. Yan Xun stepped forward swiftly, pulling the child tightly into his embrace. His gaze was icy and fearless as he stared directly at the young royal above him.
Zhao Che was taken aback, then laughed in extreme anger, "You truly have no regard for your life. Do you still think of yourself as the Heir of Yanbei at a time like this?"
Yan Xun replied coldly, "Zhao Che, if you dare to act, I swear you will regret it deeply."
Zhao Che raised an eyebrow and sneered, "I’d like to see how a trapped beast like you will make me regret it. Do it!"
Elite soldiers on both sides suddenly raised their blades and advanced in unison with a sharp rustle. Yan Xun swiftly drew a dagger and pressed it against his own chest, his eyes as sharp as ice and steel, filled with unwavering resolve.
"Stop!" Zhao Che was momentarily stunned, his brows furrowing in disbelief. After scrutinizing the child carefully, he finally said in a low voice, "Yan Xun, I’ll grant you this favor. Take them both back!"
Their weapons were immediately confiscated, and the two were shoved into a prepared prison cart. The child was held tightly in the youth's embrace, her pale face pressed against his chest. Blood gushed continuously from the wound on Yan Xun’s left shoulder, flowing down his neck and soaking into the child’s clothes.
"Yan Xun," Chu Qiao called softly, "how are you?"
A weak voice, tinged with unmistakable regret, replied, "Little one, I’ve dragged you into this."
"Don’t say that. We will definitely…"
"Don’t worry!" Yan Xun abruptly cut off Chu Qiao’s words, his voice firm and resolute. "I will protect you."
The child stiffened, stunned into silence. How long ago had it been? In that dilapidated woodshed, someone had once spoken those same words to her with equal seriousness.
"Yue'er, don’t be afraid. I will protect you."The howling wind swept by, and Yan Xun, having lost too much blood, felt his body grow cold and shivered uncontrollably. The child suddenly stretched out her slender arms, tightly embracing the young man's body, but her head tilted to the left. Not far in that direction stood a low earthen mound. As the dark clouds dispersed, a bleak moonlight spilled down, illuminating a lone warhorse carrying a young boy. The boy held a drawn bow, its arrow aimed directly at them—the very person responsible for the wound on Yan Xun’s shoulder.
Though the distance was great, Chu Qiao seemed able to make out the boy’s features and expression. Clutching Yan Xun’s increasingly cold body, she bit her lower lip, and behind the young man’s back, the child’s small hands gradually clenched into fists.
The night was bleak and desolate. As the heavy clouds cleared, the moonlight fell as cold as water. Zhuge Yue slowly lowered his crossbow, watching the Shengjin Palace prison cart fade into the distance, lingering for a long time without leaving.
This long, arduous night was finally drawing to a close.
At daybreak, news of victory arrived from the northwest—a great triumph at Shangshen. The King of Yan had been captured and would soon be escorted back to the capital.
The empire rejoiced. The next day, as the morning sun rose, it heralded yet another brilliantly sunny day.
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