No sooner had the words fallen than a massive bell tolled—nine long and five short peals—its majestic sound reverberating across the sprawling hunting grounds spanning over ten li.
Yan Xun and Zhuge Yue both stiffened simultaneously. The once-bustling great tent instantly fell into complete silence as everyone prostrated themselves on the ground, chanting loudly: "Hail our King!"
The tent flaps were thrown open, letting in the northern wind that made the lanterns flicker. Amid the silence, orderly footsteps echoed from outside. Large troops surrounded the imperial tent, their icy metallic chill from armor instantly overpowering the rich aroma of roasted meat. Chu Qiao cautiously lifted her head, only to see a row of deerskin boots stepping onto the bear-skin rug of the tent. The pair at the front was of ordinary size, with white boots embroidered with bright yellow clouds and soaring dragons. Their steps were steady, neither hurried nor rushed.
"Rise, all of you."
A deep voice sounded from above—not loud, not stern, even carrying a hint of hoarseness—yet it spread across the tent like a heavy wave, subduing the earlier clamor. Everyone rose in unison, but none dared to look upward. The King of Xia's voice resonated lowly from above: "Be seated. Qi'er, begin."
The Third Prince, Zhao Qi, replied respectfully, "Yes, Father." He then stepped forward and announced loudly, "The state banquet begins. Please take your seats."
Music from string and wind instruments immediately filled the air. From the side passages, a stream of dancers in revealing attire and alluring figures emerged. Their faces were like spring peaches, their skin as white as snow, and they waved long water sleeves as they danced seductively in the center. Delicacies and fine dishes were served at the tables, and only then did the crowd begin to relax. Gradually, laughter arose and spread.
Zhuge Yue remained standing before Yan Xun's table, his eyes dark and his expression cold. He gazed at the young woman beside Yan Xun, at her calm and composed face that still held a familiar stubbornness, and nodded slowly without a word. Turning decisively, he walked away, his heavy fur coat stirring a cold breeze that swept past the imperial wine on the table like a sharp blade. The liquid trembled and swayed gently.
Chu Qiao's fingers suddenly turned icy. Emotions surged within her chest, causing her brows to furrow deeply like knives. The young woman closed her eyes slowly, took a deep breath, and sat down.
A hand suddenly rested on her shoulder. Chu Qiao looked up and met Yan Xun's dark eyes.
Yan Xun said nothing, yet she could clearly grasp the meaning he intended to convey. For years, in every moment of despair, on every hate-filled night, they had encouraged each other in this way: Wait, endure—there will come a day when we rise again.Chu Qiao nodded silently amidst the clamor of music and bustling voices. She lifted her head and gazed toward the northernmost end of the grand tent, where brilliant lights blazed so brightly it was almost blinding. The young woman widened her eyes, staring at the man seated at the center of that luminous halo. The overwhelming radiance obscured him—under the glittering golden lights, his face remained indistinct, with only the ferocious dragon claws embroidered in gold on his robe visible, sharp as steel blades, seemingly pointing ominously at every scheming gaze within the tent.
With a sudden roar, the tent's front curtain was drawn open entirely, allowing a chilling wind to rush inside. A vast square came into view, filled with blazing torches and over three hundred banquet seats. Those unqualified to enter the main tent were seated in the outer area, encircling a large empty space in the center. The atmosphere here was even more fervent than inside the imperial tent. As the main tent's curtain lifted, a thunderous wave of cheers erupted from outside.
Just then, crisp and urgent hoofbeats suddenly rang out. Everyone looked up to see over a hundred robust warhorses charging from the distance at astonishing speed. As the crowd wondered about the origin of these riderless steeds, a hundred soldiers in white armor abruptly surged forward, leaping into the air and mounting the still-galloping horses in perfect unison—their movements precise and fluid, without the slightest hesitation.
The observing nobles and officials burst into thunderous applause. The light cavalry rode into the center, wielding blades in their left hands and shields in their right, controlling their horses with their legs while performing a series of intricate maneuvers. Their actions flowed like water, both aesthetically pleasing and combat-effective. The young cavalry commander, wearing an iron helmet that concealed his face, directed them with calm authority—his posture erect, his demeanor dashing and heroic.
Suddenly, all soldiers sheathed their blades simultaneously, placed their shields behind their saddles, and drew crossbows from their waists. Bracing their feet in the stirrups, they flipped upside down beneath their horses' bellies and released their arrows. A sharp whistling sound pierced the air as a hundred arrows shot toward a single target. With a loud crack, the thick target shattered under the immense force but didn't fall—instead, it flew vertically and embedded itself into a massive pine tree. The bullseye was densely packed with a hundred arrows, many piercing through the shafts of others, layered in a staggering display.
For a moment, the entire arena fell silent. The soldiers righted themselves, and the commander dismounted, removing his iron helmet before kneeling on one knee. In a resolute tone, he declared, "Your son, Zhao Che, wishes His Majesty boundless blessings and eternal life!"
Instantly, the crowd erupted into roaring applause, all marveling at this miraculous feat of archery.
"Years of frontier training have honed Che'er's skills," Emperor Xia remarked from above, his voice steady yet carrying a faint note of pride. "Reward him with the Dragon Spring Sword. May the blade of Daxia expand our territories and defend our homeland."
"Thank you, Father!"
Zhao Che responded loudly, kowtowing deeply. The nobles and ministers, quick to adapt, loudly praised Zhao Che's valor.
Yan Xun sat in a lower seat, silently drinking tea with his head bowed. His expression remained indifferent, but his eyes slowly narrowed."Seventh Brother's youthful valor has guarded our Daxia's frontiers for years—truly a rare military talent. With Seventh Brother at the northern border, our territories are secure."
Third Prince Zhao Qi nodded slowly, his expression calm and devoid of any envy or resentment. Whether sincere or feigned, he lived up to his reputation as a virtuous prince.
After Zhao Che expressed gratitude and withdrew with his subordinates, the atmosphere grew increasingly lively. Various military clans showcased their martial skills—horse racing, archery, military dances, and blade drills. Exquisite delicacies, mostly roasted game of exceptional flavor and aroma, were served in an endless stream.
The Batuha Family from the northwest had traveled a great distance to participate in the hunt. Apart from a few lesser uncles, only the legitimate heirs Zalu and Zama were present. After Zalu led his family warriors in a distinctive northwestern wrestling performance that drew enthusiastic cheers, Zama entered the arena with a group of robust northwestern maidens, displaying impressive equestrian skills.
Though their techniques weren't particularly outstanding, the sight of young, athletic noblewomen inevitably won widespread praise. Emperor Xia, pleased, bestowed twenty rolls of Huaisong tribute silk, sparking another wave of excitement.
Zama smiled sweetly as she kowtowed in gratitude. Rising, she suddenly said, "Your Majesty, constant performances grow dull. In our northwest, banquets permit martial contests. As this is my first time in Zhenhuang, may I request Your Majesty's permission to challenge someone?"
Though merely sixteen or seventeen, her naive delivery amused the audience. Emperor Xia's expression remained unseen from his elevated seat, but his voice carried mild pleasure as he asked, "Whom do you wish to challenge?"
"I've long heard that the maidservant of the Heir of Yanbei possesses remarkable martial skills, yet never had the chance to witness them. Since everyone is in high spirits today, why not join me for some fun?"
Instantly, all eyes turned to Yan Xun at the furthest table. Those aware of prior events understood the context, while others assumed Zama was deliberately provoking—after all, the northwestern Batuha Family and Yanbei faction had long been rivals, with numerous public confrontations occurring before Yanshicheng's death.
Before Emperor Xia could respond, Yan Xun rose. Dressed in a moon-white robe embroidered with subtle black lotus patterns, his ink-black hair and eyes contrasting with jade-like complexion, he exuded the grace of a scholarly gentleman. With restrained courtesy, he declined, "My servant is still young and has only superficial martial knowledge—hardly worthy of performing before Your Majesty. Princess Zama's equestrian and martial skills are exceptional; please do not press this unreasonable demand."
"Young Master Yan, concealing the truth constitutes deception against the throne. Moreover, Princess Zama is merely sixteen. For a princess to spar with a servant is an immense honor—your repeated refusals seem rather ungrateful."
A young man beside Wei Shuyou at the fourth upper table spoke up. This was Wei Qingchi, a recently prominent collateral member of the Wei Clan known for his eloquence and refined speech. Yan Xun had encountered him at several banquets but never expected such open defiance today."Brother Qingchi speaks wisely," Prince Jing laughed heartily. "Young Master Yan, a gentleman possesses the virtue of helping others fulfill their wishes. Since the Pearl of the Northwestern Grasslands has such rare enthusiasm, why not indulge her? Otherwise, Old General Batu might accuse the clans of Zhenhuang of bullying his precious daughter."
Jing Han, having grown up in the imperial capital, was the youngest son of the elderly Prince Jing Hai. Prince Jing Hai was Zhao Zhengde's uncle, over eighty years old when he fathered this late-born son, and thus doted on him excessively. In terms of seniority, Jing Han outranked Yan Xun and Zhao Che, so he always spoke with casual familiarity. Once he spoke, others immediately chimed in with agreement. Emperor Xia nodded gravely and declared, "We grant Princess Zhama's request."
"Your Majesty," Yan Xun's eyebrows twitched as he attempted to protest further, but Chu Qiao suddenly rose from behind him, tugging gently at his sleeve while silently shaking her head.
Though his expression remained dark, Yan Xun knew the situation had reached a point of no return. Continuing to object would likely draw attacks from all sides. Beneath his wide sleeves, he tightly grasped Chu Qiao's hand and whispered urgently, "You must be extremely careful."
The young girl nodded with a faint smile. "Don't worry."
Removing her long fur coat, Chu Qiao walked to the center of the arena. She first bowed toward the northern seat of honor, then turned to Princess Zhama and saluted. "In that case, I must boldly make offense."
Instantly, all eyes focused on this young woman. Seven years ago, the eight-year-old Chu Qiao had fought alongside Yan Xun through life and death situations. On Jiuye Street, she severed three fingers from Wei Shuyou, young master of the Wei Clan, and used him as a hostage to escape Zhenhuang. Later, at the Nine Nether Platform, she battled imperial guards and nearly escaped again - memories that remained vivid in everyone's minds. If a mere eight-year-old child had possessed such courage and capability back then, what unfathomable abilities might she have developed after seven years? Though she was merely a lowly slave girl, she represented the entire Yanbei faction.
Everyone in the Great Xia Dynasty knew that despite Yanshicheng's death seven years ago and the near-extinction of the Yan royal line, the century-old policy of self-governance in Yanbei had allowed the Yan clan to establish deep roots in the northwestern grasslands. Constant border raids by the Quanrong People had prevented Great Xia from thoroughly restructuring Yanbei's power structure - this being the primary reason Emperor Xia dared not eliminate Yan Xun outright. Moreover, there were rumors of mysterious forces secretly supporting Yanbei's economy and politics. Without absolute certainty of complete eradication, Yan Xun remained the nominal ruler of Yanbei.
The long wind from outside the tent swept in, brushing against the girl's light blue short fur jacket. Her eyes were pitch black, her hair ink-dark, her face slightly thin and far from breathtakingly beautiful. Yet the composure and determination radiating from her entire being commanded respect from any man present.
This marked Chu Qiao's first appearance before the entire Great Xia imperial family as a slave girl, accepting a challenge from the most prestigious princess of the northwest, Zhama.
Princess Zhama looked at the girl who had just humiliated her, a cold smile curling her lips as she declared arrogantly, "I just performed equestrian skills and haven't recovered my strength yet. Fighting now would be unfair. I'll first send my slave to duel with you. If you defeat him, then you may fight me."As soon as these words were spoken, everyone present was shocked. Zhao Song could no longer restrain himself. Ignoring Zhao Qi’s furrowed brows, he stood up and said, “Father, this is unfair.”
“Princess Zama is delicate and precious. It was already inappropriate for her to compete with a slave girl, especially after just performing equestrian skills. Thirteenth Prince, she’s just a slave. There’s nothing unfair about it.”
Jing Han chuckled carelessly.
Wei Shuyou curled his lips and cast a gloomy glance at Chu Qiao, saying indifferently, “Prince Jing is absolutely right. She’s just a slave, merely for amusement.”
“You…”
“Thirteenth Brother!” Zhao Qi shouted sternly, “Sit down.”
Seeing that Emperor Xia did not object, Zama turned to a burly man sitting in the back row and said, “Tuda, you come and have some fun with this little girl.”
As soon as the burly man stood up, everyone gasped in astonishment. The man was exceptionally tall, standing over seven feet, with eyes as large as bronze bells and bulging muscles on his arms. Standing next to Chu Qiao, he looked like an elephant beside a kitten, completely disproportionate.
At this point, everyone understood Princess Zama’s intention. This was not a competition but a murder. However, no one raised any objections, for in their eyes, as Wei Shuyou had said, she was just a slave, merely for amusement.
Chu Qiao raised her head and calmly stared at Tuda. She knew that today’s battle was about the reputation of Yanbei. This was the first time in many years that Yan Xun had appeared before the empire’s officials and soldiers. If she were to lose, it would deal a severe blow to the morale of Yanbei. And the foundation of Yan Xun’s survival now was the unconditional loyalty of the Yanbei soldiers.
She took a deep breath, walked out of the imperial tent, and arrived at the center of the hunting grounds. She picked up a long spear from the weapon rack nearby, weighed it in her hands a few times, then turned back and said, looking up, “What weapon do you use?”
Tuda slammed his fists together, making a grating sound, and said smugly, “My fists are my weapons.”
“Blades and spears have no eyes. Be careful.”
A gust of wind suddenly swept toward Chu Qiao’s direction. Tuda let out a thunderous roar, as if a clap of thunder had exploded in mid-air! The girl swiftly turned around and shifted her steps, barely moving away from her original position when a massive fist smashed into the ground. Instantly, snowflakes flew and dust billowed, leaving a huge crater in the ground.
A gasp of shock rose from the crowd. Just from the force of the burly man’s strike, it was clear he intended to kill the girl. Among the spectators were many young ladies and noblewomen who turned pale with fear, covering their eyes, too terrified to watch.
Chu Qiao raised her spear but had no chance to wield it. Tuda was not only incredibly strong but also remarkably agile. For a moment, he was like a ferocious tiger, pressing forward step by step.
Zhao Song’s face was tense with anxiety. Although he knew Chu Qiao was skilled, how could she possibly be a match for such a burly man? The young prince resolved that if the situation turned dire, he would intervene immediately to save her.In the blink of an eye, the two had exchanged several moves, yet the slender girl never retaliated, constantly evading and avoiding direct confrontation with Tuda. Just as everyone was convinced she would surely lose, Tuda suddenly let out a furious roar and lunged at Chu Qiao, his face twisted with ferocity and his methods ruthless. A strong wind swept through, torches blazed and crackled, and the crowd gasped in unison, certain that Chu Qiao would not escape this calamity and would meet her end. Yet, amidst the crowd, Yan Xun’s tense expression relaxed instantly. He brought the wine cup he had been gripping tightly to his lips and took a calm sip. When he released his hand, a crisp sound rang out as the cup shattered into pieces, scattering chaotically on the table.
Under the gaze of countless eyes, everyone was left stunned. The girl, who had been fleeing moments before, suddenly turned around. With an unusual gait and agile movements, she twisted her slender waist, using the force to flip mid-air. Her long spear was instantly drawn back, and with a reverse flourish, she thrust it forward with thunderous force!
A dull thud echoed, blood splattered, and a scream erupted.
The howling wind lifted the strands of hair from the girl’s forehead. She held the spear with one hand, its tip pointing directly at Tuda’s chest. The spear had pierced half an inch into his body but had not been driven deeper, clearly an intentional act of mercy, unwilling to take his life.
With a swift motion, Chu Qiao withdrew her spear and nodded indifferently. “I concede.”
With that, she turned and bowed toward the main seat in the north.
The onlookers erupted into thunderous cheers! Daxia held martial prowess in the highest regard, and witnessing such a young girl display unparalleled spear skills, effortlessly defeating a burly man, everyone raised their voices in loud acclaim.
However, at that moment, the enraged Tuda suddenly roared and charged forward, his fist aimed squarely at Chu Qiao’s back as she turned away.
“Watch out!”
Zhao Song shouted urgently, leaping from his seat. Simultaneously, a flash of white light shot from the rear seats. Just as Tuda’s fist was about to strike Chu Qiao’s back, the light pierced through the burly man’s skull, leaving a gaping, bloody hole at the back of his head.
At that very moment, Chu Qiao’s head had just touched the ground in a bow.
Tuda’s eyes widened in disbelief, blood gushed from his nose and mouth, his gaze vacant, before he finally collapsed with a heavy thud. Blood trickled steadily from the back of his head, a chilling sight.
“How dare you!” Zama roared, springing to her feet from her seat. “How dare you carry a weapon in the presence of His Majesty! Yan Xun! Are you plotting rebellion?”
Yan Xun sat composedly in his seat, his expression cold. Pinching a shard of porcelain between his index and middle fingers, he replied indifferently, “Is a cup considered a weapon?”
The astonished crowd then realized that what Yan Xun had used to kill Tuda was nothing more than a broken piece of the cup!
“Father, Zama’s subordinate acted dishonorably, attacking from behind. He deserved to die.”
There was no response from the throne. The guards on either side quickly reacted, dragging Tuda’s corpse out of the tent.
“Princess, have you rested enough?” The calm-faced girl turned around, her eyes devoid of any emotion as she fixed her gaze on the uneasy Zama. “If you still feel tired, you may send another subordinate to take the stage first.”The nobles of Daxia swiftly shifted their attention from the dead loser, turning their gazes like spectators toward Zhama, waiting to see how she would phrase her words.
Anyone with eyes could see that Zhama had never intended to fight Chu Qiao. Her earlier words were merely based on the assumption that Tuda would surely kill Chu Qiao. But now that Tuda was dead, if she still tried to evade with excuses, everyone would see that she was too cowardly to accept the challenge. To make matters worse, she was the one who had initiated the challenge. According to the customs of the northwest, a coward was even more despised than a battlefield deserter and would be scorned by all.
Zhama gritted her teeth, cracked her whip with a sharp snap, and stood up, shouting sharply, "Fine, let's fight! Do you think I'm afraid of a lowly slave like you?"
"Wait," Zhao Qi suddenly rose to his feet and said with a smile, "It's been a long time since I've seen a woman with such superb martial skills. It seems that since General Nanfeng, the empire has had no female commanders. How about this? The last round was a test of martial arts; this round, let's have an archery contest. What does everyone think?"
As soon as he spoke, the crowd immediately understood. The Batuha Family dominated the northwest with formidable power, and Old Batu was known for his fiery temper. If his precious daughter were harmed in the capital, he would surely fly into a rage and hold a grudge. Moreover, Princess Zhama was renowned for her exceptional archery skills. Zhao Qi's suggestion was merely a way to save face for the northwest.
As a mere slave girl, her spear skills might be exceptional, but her archery might not be outstanding. The crowd waiting to watch the spectacle couldn't help but feel greatly disappointed, yet there was nothing they could do.
However, at the seventh seat in the upper section, a man in purple robes and white fur narrowed his eyes slightly. Zhuge Yue, who had witnessed Chu Qiao's superb archery skills before, raised his wine cup and took a sip.
Sure enough, Zama's expression immediately improved significantly. Smugly picking up a powerful crossbow, she walked coldly to the center of the field and said, "You go first?"
"I dare not. Please, Princess, you first."
Zama sneered, waved her hand to draw three powerful arrows, mounted them on her bow, and with a whoosh, all three arrows shot out simultaneously like lightning toward the bullseye of the target a hundred paces away. The consecutive shots were swift, the wind whistled, and her technique was so superb that it immediately drew widespread praise.
Yet before the thunderous applause could subside, the young girl suddenly knelt on one knee, drawing a massive bow that was even taller than her own height. Three powerful arrows chased closely after Zama's arrows—swish, swish, swish—three crisp sounds as they pierced through the tails of Zama's three arrows, almost simultaneously striking the bullseye alongside hers!
A miraculous feat! In the blink of an eye, the difference in skill became clear!
The crowd could hardly believe their eyes. Cheers thundered and lingered for a long time.
"Princess Zama, I concede."
Chu Qiao nodded faintly and walked toward the main tent.
Even Emperor Xia was visibly moved, sighing deeply as he said, "Such archery skills haven't been seen for many years. For a woman, it's truly remarkable. Very well, I grant you release from slave status and appoint you as an archery instructor in the Elite Cavalry Camp."
Chu Qiao raised an eyebrow slightly but still knelt heavily on the ground, saying solemnly, "Thank you for Your Majesty's grace."
She slowly retreated and came to Yan Xun's side. The atmosphere around them was lively, and just then, stunning dancers came forward to perform, immediately drawing everyone's attention. Yan Xun looked up, their eyes met, they exchanged a smile, and then sat down.
From the opposite seating area, a gaze shot over from afar, carrying a gloomy and unfathomable brilliance, silently calculating, complex and turbulent. The dazzling smile that suddenly appeared on the face of the usually cold-faced girl instantly dazzled his eyes.
Amidst the clinking of wine cups, Zhuge Yue raised his cup, drank it all in one go, his expression calm yet having lost its usual detached elegance.
The grand royal hunting feast finally came to an end. Chu Qiao and Yan Xun returned to their tent. A Jing was severely injured, and Zuo Tang was outside arranging the night watch.
Yan Xun poured a pot of light tea, sitting in a chair as he drank. Chu Qiao sat by the fire basin, looked up and said, "Emperor Xia rewarded Zhao Che with the Dragon Spring Sword. What do you think?"
"Clearly, he's warning the Muhe Clan not to continue blaming Mu Hexifeng's death on Zhao Che."
Chu Qiao frowned and nodded, "In that case, wouldn't the Wei Clan have to take the blame? Could it be that he wants to use this matter to allow the Wei Clan and Muhe Clan to fight among themselves?"
"Mm," Yan Xun nodded, "The Muhe Clan has been too arrogant. The higher they're lifted, the harder they'll fall, just like the Ou Clan thirty years ago."
Chu Qiao sighed, suddenly feeling extremely tired today. Too many events and too many people had rushed into the situation in a single day, making the already perplexing relationships even more complicated. She rubbed her temples and said, "I'll head back first. You should rest early too."Just as she was about to stand and leave, Yan Xun's voice suddenly sounded from behind: "A Chu, that man named Tuda was sneaking up on you from behind just now. Why didn't you dodge? With your abilities, you couldn't have failed to notice."
Chu Qiao turned her head and replied very naturally: "Because you were behind me."
The wind outside grew stronger, rustling against the tent, and a faint chill seeped through the fabric. Yan Xun was momentarily stunned, but soon, the corners of his lips lifted into a genuine smile. "Yes, how foolish of me."
"I'm leaving now."
The curtain lifted, and the girl's figure vanished from the tent. A gentle smile lingered on Yan Xun's lips, his expression warm. The icy fortress around his heart slowly began to thaw, leaving a crack through which a warm, moist breeze softly drifted in.
Because you were behind me, I could confidently leave my most vulnerable back undefended.
They had always been the ones most worthy of each other's trust, just like when they were children. He could only close his eyes in her presence, and she could only sleep peacefully in his.
Under the starless, moonless sky, the night stretched long and dark. The young Heir of Yanbei tilted his head slightly upward. "A Chu, thank you for allowing me to still have someone I can trust."
Inside the warm tent, Chu Qiao had just bathed and felt exhausted. She leaned back on the soft couch, about to close her eyes, but the moment she did, she caught sight of the sword placed at the head of the bed.
Sitting up, she gently drew it out. The blue gleam of the blade shimmered like flowing water under the lamplight, while the dark red patterns on the steel flickered like eerie traces of blood.
Seven years had passed. She had imagined they would meet again, but she never expected it to be like this.
She knew that Zhuge Yue must have noticed the wound on her neck. It seemed they had always been this way—opposed, tense, and destined to be enemies no matter the time or place.
The children's agonized screams seemed to echo in her ears once more—the severed arms, the blood-soaked sacks, the cold pavilion by the lake—all sliding before her eyes like scenes from a film. The memory of that braised pork, fragrant and tempting in her darkest moment of despair, pierced her heart like a sharp arrow.
"Yue'er, do you trust your fifth brother? I will protect you!"
A wave of bitterness surged within her chest once again. Her gaze sharpened, and the voice that had haunted her day and night in her nightmares resounded in her ears—Xiao Ba's final, desperate cry from the prison cart on Jiuwei Street had plagued her nightmares for seven long years.
"Sister Yue'er! Save me, save me!"
The ground had been soaked in blood, the flesh torn and mangled. The child, disfigured by a torturous death, lay unrecognizable. On that nightmarish evening, she had secretly escaped the Holy Gold Palace and rushed to the execution ground, fighting off stray dogs as she searched among the shattered remains, unable to distinguish the child's head from his limbs. She hadn't even been able to give him a proper burial, forced instead to let his blood and flesh sink into the depths of Chishui Lake, staining its waters, already tainted by the extravagance of the nobility.
"Xiao Ba, lie here and watch. Wait for me to avenge you."
That day, her tears had long dried up, leaving only a seething hatred coiling viciously in her heart. The child's fists had clenched like those of a ferocious young beast, her lips bitten tightly.
In the blink of an eye, seven years had passed.
Zhuge Yue, you have finally returned.In the darkness, a girl's low breathing slowly sounded.
Do you know, I've waited for you for so long.
The sparse stars dotted the horizon as the wind from Yanbei, carrying a murderous scent of blood, swept across the contours of the Ximeng land from afar.
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