May 20th, 775 of the Imperial Calendar was an unforgettable day. Half of Zhenhuang, the imperial capital of the Daxia Empire, was destroyed in a raging inferno. The Holy Gold Palace, symbol of the empire, was completely burned down. The city's armed forces suffered seventy to eighty percent losses, with the empire's most elite soldiers stationed in Zhenhuang suffering as many as 170,000 casualties. Among these, nearly 30,000 died in battles against the Southwest Garrison Commander, while over 70,000 perished in Yan Xun's massacres. The remainder fell victim to riots by rebellious civilians and mutinies where friend and foe became indistinguishable.
Yet none of this was the most critical. After this battle, Zhenhuang's economy was nearly paralyzed. With June approaching, the excessive deaths brought uncontrollable plagues and diseases. Countless merchant shops and civilian residences turned to ashes in the great fire. Massive numbers of refugees had nowhere to settle, while large groups of wounded soldiers lay in the streets. Continuous overcast rainy weather brought even greater disaster to Zhenhuang—many corpses that couldn't be removed from the city in time lay rotting in sewage, soaking until they turned pale and putrid, becoming piles of decaying flesh swarming with flies and bedbugs.
Before Yan Xun left the city, he set fire to the imperial grain reserves, and most grain merchants were looted during the night of the uprising. Consequently, Zhenhuang couldn't even gather relief grain. Within three days, vast numbers of refugees died of starvation. At this critical juncture of life and death, the usually docile capital citizens revealed their savage side. Starting from the third day, countless robbery cases occurred frequently. These cornered commoners even dared to rob small armed military units. Within just two days, over thirty imperial squads sent to maintain order vanished without a trace. Only a day later would people discover some of their personal belongings in roadside ditches—military uniforms, daggers, bayonets, boots, shoulder insignias, or more private items like intimate undergarments, treasured pouches, severed limbs, gouged-out eyeballs, and ghastly white bones...
The capital's order instantly vanished without a trace.
Five days later, the frenzied refugees stormed out of Zhenhuang, fleeing in all directions. Yet the Zhao Clan remained powerless to reverse the situation. Standing atop the watchtower of the Holy Gold Palace amidst ruins, Zhao Zhengde offered a helpless bitter smile before leading the final armed forces under the protection of Adjutant Song Que. He issued the order to relocate the capital, and the procession of carriages and horses rolled away from this devastated city.
Over the three centuries since Daxia's founding, this ancient city had withstood countless blades of foreign tribes. During the 633 Capital Defense War, Emperor Baiwei of Daxia had held the capital for a month with just 8,000 cavalry against 200,000 Quanrong wolf soldiers, finally awaiting reinforcements from noble families and creating the legend of holding out despite exhausted supplies.
In 684, the powerful eastern clan Wolong betrayed the empire, opening the Wolong Pass to admit the Tang-Song allied forces into the border. The enemy army charged all the way to Sanli Slope, less than thirty li from Zhenhuang City. At that time, the Daxia emperor was traveling in the southeast, leaving only the eight-year-old Crown Prince Zhao Chongming and Empress Muhe Jiuge in the capital. Though all civil and military officials urged the heir to retreat, the 27-year-old Muhe Jiuge stood atop the city walls with her eight-year-old son for three days without descending, until the empire's banners finally fluttered over Sanli Slope and repelled the enemy forces.In the 714 Red Tide Rebellion, even when the capital's gates were shattered by rebel forces, the Zhao imperial clan did not retreat an inch!
735... 761... 769...
After standing resilient for so many years, the proud imperial capital of Zhenhuang that had remained unmoved for three centuries atop the world's highest plateau, and the Zhao imperial clan that had maintained its composure for three hundred years, finally on the morning of May 26th, abandoned this imperial heart they had guarded for three centuries, retreating gloomily to the holy city of Yundu in the northeast.
Though later historians would criticize this battle extensively, they had to acknowledge that the architect of this great achievement was none other than Yanbei's new ruler—Crown Prince Yan Xun, who had been a hostage in the capital for eight years. With merely his own strength and the aid of five thousand warriors from the Great Alliance Society, he single-handedly accomplished a miraculous feat that neither the three hundred thousand Quanrong troops, nor the five hundred eighty thousand combined forces of Tang and Song, nor even the full might of rebel clans could achieve! The name Yan Xun thus spread across the lands, causing the entire Ximeng continent to tremble. The lion of Yanbei had finally awakened, and the era belonging to Yanbei once again began thunderously amid the flames of a chaotic world.
On a gray morning, a horn sounded from the battlements of Zhenhuang City. The sun slowly rose from below the horizon, the sky hazy with mist as if rain was imminent. Over a dozen soldiers in blue armor stood on the city walls, gazing at the distant land where countless grasses swayed. The empty post road showed not a single soul. An elderly soldier sighed deeply, set down his horn, and turned to walk away.
"Has no one come yet?"
A deep voice slowly spoke up. The old soldier started, looking up to see a man in his twenties, handsome and quite young, draped in a black cloak that concealed his military uniform, making his rank unclear. Yet the old soldier could tell at a glance—this was a noble general, not someone an ordinary soldier like himself could compare to.
"Reporting to the General, no one has come yet."
The young man nodded silently, as if he had expected this. He observed the old soldier's stooped frame—nearly fifty years old, no longer able to properly fill out the military uniform, the dual-moon single-stripe insignia on his shoulders appearing somewhat worn. The youth frowned slightly and asked, "Didn't the entire 19th Division follow the Emperor to Yundu? Why didn't you go?"
"General, I'm too old to travel such a long distance. The chance to live should be left to the young," the old soldier sighed mournfully. "I enlisted at fourteen, starting as a stable hand and eventually guarding the city gates. I've been guarding the imperial capital for over thirty years. I can't just leave because the city was attacked and its people fled. As long as these gates haven't fallen, I must remain here."
The young man's brow furrowed, his eyes deep as the ocean, swirling with intensity like swords being forged in a furnace.
The old soldier, unaware, continued rambling, "Besides, my family all died in this battle. There's no point in me going to Yundu alone. I might as well stay here—at least I can look for familiar faces, see if there are any neighbors' bodies left unburied that need my help. After all, everyone deserves to rest in peace."The young man lowered his head, his expression tinged with sorrow. Behind him stretched vast swathes of scorched earth and ruins. Once, there had stood the continent's most bustling structures and crowds, the world's grandest towers and most luxurious palaces. Now, they had all faded into history.
"General," the old soldier looked up, nervously rubbing his hands together, somewhat uneasy. Seeing the young man's gentle expression, he finally couldn't resist asking in confusion, "Why didn't any of the noble families or feudal lords send troops to support the capital? Lords Zhuge and Wei even returned to their own territories. Is the empire going to split? Are we going to war again? When will Young Master Yan lead the Yanbei Army to attack?"
"That day will never come!"
A calm voice slowly emerged from the young man's lips, yet it carried immense conviction. The young man's face was resolute, his tone low as he spoke word by word: "The empire will not split, the Yanbei Army will not attack, the capital will not be destroyed. One day, those who left will return. Zhenhuang City will restore its former grandeur and past splendor!"
The old soldier was stunned, staring at the young man before him. The rumors he had heard over the past days suddenly crumbled away. In that moment, he wholeheartedly believed the words of this young general. A glimmer of hope shone in the old man's eyes as he asked excitedly, "Really? They'll come back? Can this humble one continue guarding the city gate?"
"You will," the young man turned his head, smiling faintly to reveal his snow-white teeth. "I grant you special permission to guard it forever. Even when you reach a hundred years old, I will have people carry you to the city gate every day. If you have any descendants alive, I grant them the privilege to guard the capital gates for our Great Xia Dynasty. The capital will not fall. As long as I live, I will never break this promise!"
With that, the young general searched through his clothes and finally pulled out a silver token blackened by fire from his pocket. It was engraved with intricate and complex crape myrtle flowers - the national flower of Great Xia - which appeared both sacred and desolate in this moment.
"Take this as a token."
The old soldier was overjoyed, but then felt somewhat doubtful. He looked at the young man in confusion, wisely choosing a more tactful way to inquire: "Might I ask which division the general belongs to? Could this humble one be honored to know your esteemed name?"
The young man raised his head. The sun had now risen above the horizon, dispelling the earlier misty weather. Golden rays spread across the sky, showering the world in brilliant light.
I am the Commander of the Elite Cavalry Camp. My name is Zhao Che."
The old soldier was instantly shocked, his eyes widening. After a long moment, the old soldier fell to his knees with a thud, kowtowing vigorously as he cried out: "This humble one has eyes but failed to recognize Mount Tai! I have offended the Seventh Prince! I beg Your Highness for forgiveness, spare this humble one this once!"
There was no response from ahead. When the old soldier looked up, he only saw a straight-backed figure on the steps of the watchtower. The young prince, holding his sword, gradually disappeared from the city walls step by step, his back straight as a tree that could prop up heaven and earth.
The dazzling light momentarily blinded the old man's eyes. When he turned to look, he saw before him a silver token placed on the blue brick ground, the crape myrtle flowers blooming magnificently, like the warm sun of September.A century later, the historical records in Biantang's Tengyuan Pavilion preserved only this account of that era: Following the Great Alliance Society's revenge incident, the Zhao imperial clan issued widespread conscription decrees. The great noble families returned to their territories, while regional vassal kings offered no response. With no alternatives, Emperor Xia ordered the capital's relocation. Prince Zhao Che guarded the nation's borders, while Prince Zhao Yang volunteered to pursue the Yanbei Army. The Great Xia lineage thus revealed its exhaustion, no longer capable of leading the vast territory and numerous feudal lords. Through the mediation of our benevolent, sagacious, martial, virtuous, wise, and discerning Crown Prince, Biantang rapidly ascended to become the world's foremost power. The commercial center of the Ximeng lands began shifting from the north, causing Great Xia merchants to grow restless, with large numbers crossing the border into Biantang. The Crown Prince's transcendent talents, brilliant wisdom, miraculous courage, and righteousness illuminating the world truly made him a model for the age, a paragon of heaven and earth, and the great fortune of all people...
Although later historians maintained deep skepticism about the records concerning Crown Prince Li Ce, believing Yan Xun's rebellion had little to do with him, and many firmly asserted that the latter portion was undoubtedly added by Crown Prince Li Ce himself—evidenced by completely different ink colors and handwriting that would embarrass even a child learning to write compared to the exquisite calligraphy preceding it—this couldn't deny the authenticity of the earlier account. After the Great Alliance Society's revenge incident, the massive Great Xia Dynasty truly embarked on its decline.
**
Just as the Zhenhuang capital faced its century's most terrible calamity, Yanbei's final remaining force inland still lingered around the Qiuping Mountain region. Across the vast Qiuping Mountain plains, a ragged but determined troop lay quietly concealed like hungry wolves, awaiting the perfect moment to strike.
Although the great noble families hadn't aided the capital, they all turned their attention to Yanbei's rebel forces. It was only then that Chu Qiao felt slightly relieved about Yan Xun's abandonment of the Southwest Garrison Commander. With the Yan family executed by the empire, Yan Xun already bore blood-deep enmity against the Great Xia Dynasty, while the Great Alliance Society was universally recognized as the continent's leading rebellion force. Thus, only the Southwest Garrison Commander faction bore the charge of betraying their lord and country. This force, once abandoned by Yan Xun in Zhenhuang City, suddenly became the entire empire's public enemy. Everyone wanted to play the hero eliminating traitors, and along their journey, Chu Qiao's group had lost count of how many surprise attacks they'd encountered.
"Miss," He Xiao cautiously crouched as he approached, whispering in Chu Qiao's ear, "The scout battalion is closing in. Give the order!"
Chu Qiao lowered her head, calmly responding, "Wait a little longer."
"Miss, they're less than two hundred paces away."
"Wait a little longer."
"Any longer and our ambush will lose its meaning."
"The timing isn't right yet."
Just as He Xiao prepared to argue further, a red-and-white military banner suddenly rose from distant trenches. Chu Qiao's eyebrows shot up as she sharply commanded, "Attack!"
Instantly, war cries shook the heavens as countless blades surged from the trenches. The hastily approaching army scouts immediately found themselves trapped in a terrifying encirclement.Another decisive victory without any suspense. With Chu Qiao's precise calculations, impeccable timing, and flawless tactical deployment, the enemy who recklessly stepped into the encirclement was utterly shattered. In less than half an hour, the battle was over. Without time to eliminate the scattered enemy forces fleeing in all directions, Chu Qiao waved her battle flag and led the remaining four thousand Southwest Garrison Commander troops, charging headlong toward the largest punitive army!
After four days of evading and fleeing like stray dogs, the Southwest Garrison Commander troops who had destroyed the beasts in Daxia's capital finally unleashed their pent-up fury, roaring fiercely across the plains of Qiuping Mountain!
Four thousand troops pursuing a punitive army of fifty thousand—it was a truly absurd sight. Yet, this miraculous scene unfolded within the ranks of the army that had traveled thousands of miles to suppress the rebels. The southwestern troops, who were eating lunch, watched in terror as the dark mass of cavalry thundered toward them. Before they could swallow their last bite, enemy blades slit their throats.
Blood sprayed into the sky, misting the air in a crimson haze. No one could have imagined that this small, exhausted, and nearly depleted force, seemingly trapped in a hopeless situation, would turn around and attack them! Just the night before, they had received reports that the Southwest Garrison Commander's troops were three hundred miles away at Blue Feather Inn. In a single night, they had marched three hundred miles, stealthily circled to their rear, eliminated the outer scout camps, and struck the army headquarters at its most vulnerable moment. Who had ever witnessed such tactics?
Thus began the battle later known as the Qiuping Counterattack. As darkness fell, the fifty-thousand-strong punitive army fled in disarray toward the southwest. Chu Qiao, mounted on her horse, led her four thousand bloodthirsty troops in relentless pursuit, showing no signs of retreat.
The chase lasted the entire night, covering eleven counties and spanning over five hundred miles, setting a record for forced-march combat. By the time the morning sun rose, there were no forces left in the entire northwestern region capable of opposing them.
A light drizzle fell from the sky. Chu Qiao wiped the rain from her face, her small features pale and gaunt. Seated on her horse, she slid her sword back into its scabbard with a sharp shing and declared firmly, "Soldiers, we are withdrawing."
Instantly, chaos erupted among the ranks. The overwhelming victory of the night had exhilarated these soldiers who had been chased and beaten for four straight days. The desire to avenge their humiliation and settle scores had taken root in every heart. The window of opportunity was fleeting, and withdrawing at such a pivotal moment seemed unwise in everyone's eyes. Yet, their gratitude and reverence for the woman before them kept them silent, though their eyes clearly conveyed their disagreement.
"I know what you're thinking."The young woman cleared her throat and declared loudly, "The empire is in turmoil, with forces from all directions stirring restlessly. This is the perfect opportunity for brave men to carve out their own destinies. Our momentum is unstoppable, our blades sharp—we shouldn't abandon a battle that's within our grasp at such a critical time. But is the situation truly as it appears before our eyes? No, it's not! The empire still has numerous noble clans and tribes, vast numbers of garrisoned feudal lords, and large loyal armies. They may not have come to defend the nation yet, but that's only for now. Once we defeat the armed forces of the Zhao Clan, we will become the public enemy of the entire Daxia. We are running out of ammunition and supplies, with no spare clothing, no reserve warhorses, no medicine or food. How long can we sustain ourselves by living off the land through burning, killing, and plundering? The moment we show signs of exhaustion, our enemies will pounce on us like rabid dogs. Even the fiercest lion, when weary, cannot withstand a pack of vicious hounds. We've had enough. We're tired. It's time for us to return home."
Chu Qiao's gaze was as calm as water, yet carried a heavy weight as she spoke slowly, "Over the past five days, you have fought one bloody battle in the capital, launched thirty-one surprise attacks, engaged in twenty-six counterattacks, and fought three major campaigns. You have killed nearly a hundred thousand enemies and defeated forces dozens of times your size. You have demonstrated the iron will and courage of Yanbei warriors against the entire empire. Your achievements have shaken the entire land of Ximeng; your performance has made the entire Yanbei plateau proud. You are Yanbei's most honorable warriors, the heroes your families can take the greatest pride in. This is already enough. Now, please follow me back to Yanbei, back to our homeland, back to the sides of your parents, wives, and children. Yanbei needs you, your families need you. No more bloodshed, no more sacrifices. Every single one of you here must return home safely with me, intact. I won't allow anyone to fall behind, I won't allow anyone to die. We can no longer afford to let any child of Yanbei remain exiled on foreign soil!"
From the crowd, someone suddenly began to sob quietly, while another murmured softly, as if afraid to receive confirmation: "His Highness has already abandoned us."
"That's right, miss. We have nowhere to return to."
"We are traitors to the empire, castoffs of Yanbei. Where are we supposed to go?"
"Do not believe those absurd and ridiculous rumors!" Chu Qiao shouted sternly, her expression grave. "Those are nothing but conspiracies to sow discord among us in Yanbei. His Highness has not abandoned you—the king of Yanbei will never abandon his people!"
"But His Highness didn't take us with him; he left us in the encirclement. Every one of us saw it clearly."
"No! His Highness did not leave you behind without care. He sent me to rescue you."
"His Highness sent only one person to save us?"
Chu Qiao raised an eyebrow and declared resolutely, "But I succeeded. I rescued you. His Highness believed I could accomplish it, and so he entrusted me with the task. There is no doubt about it!"
The entire crowd fell into a hushed silence. Though the situation was somewhat difficult to comprehend, it was the truth: this petite young woman had single-handedly saved four thousand officers and soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander, leading them to shatter the enemy's encirclement and blockade, breaking through the siege and escaping to safety."Warriors, hesitate no more. Now, let us bury our fallen comrades, then carry their dreams with us as we depart this place. You have shed your blood to defend our homeland—history will remember your loyalty. Now, please follow me back!"
After speaking in a low voice, Chu Qiao suddenly bowed deeply to the four thousand officers and soldiers. Her lustrous hair cascaded down both sides like two elegant waterfalls.
The crowd stood in silence. Three seconds later, everyone uniformly dropped to one knee and shouted in unison: "We are willing to follow you, my lady!"
That day, the scent of blood carried far across the Qiu Pingshan plains. The soldiers' low shouts resembled the roaring winds of the grasslands. They likely never realized that the troops they had just annihilated were not the pursuing forces chasing the Southwest Garrison Commander, but rather a revenge army formed by Zhao Yang's alliance with eleven northwestern clans, intended to launch a surprise attack on Yanbei's rear. They had made thorough preparations—stockpiled ample provisions, conscripted numerous civilian laborers for grain transport, meticulously studied Yanbei's terrain, recruited the finest guides, and even had local spies ready and waiting. Everything was set for the main force's arrival to commence the campaign. With Yan Xun not yet firmly established in Yanbei, they estimated a seventy percent chance of victory.
Yet, all their plans came to nothing because of Chu Qiao's appearance. When Zhao Yang received the news, the young prince remained silent for a long time. He recalled that rainy day, the faint rustle of a skirt, and the blue tiles that had shielded him from the cold rain...
"Your Highness, there's no hope of advancing into Yanbei now. Should we eliminate this raiding force?"
Zhao Yang lowered his head, pondered for a long while, and finally said calmly, "The big fish are gone. What use are the small fry?"
The young prince abruptly stood up. "Return to Yundu!"
**
At this very moment, on Bieyapo in Ximaliang, a camp stood quietly. Before the entrance of the main tent flew a black iron eagle military banner.
Miss Yu lifted the tent flap and entered. Before she could speak, a man's irritable voice came from within: "Didn't I tell you not to come in again?"
Miss Yu paused in surprise, then said softly, "Young Master, it's me."
Yan Xun immediately turned around. Seeing Miss Yu, he quickly stepped forward and said gravely, "So it's you, Miss. My apologies for my rudeness."
"Young Master is too polite." Miss Yu smiled faintly. "Has A Jing just been here?"
Yan Xun nodded but said nothing, his expression clearly troubled.
"Your Highness, it's already the fifth day. We really should depart now."
At these words, Yan Xun's brow furrowed deeply. Miss Yu continued, "Yanbei is in complete chaos. With news of your return, various factions are already clashing. We've already delayed too long."
Yan Xun sighed helplessly. "I understand all that."
"Of course you understand, Young Master. You should also understand what consequences further delay would bring. But you cannot bring yourself to act. Young Master, you're not behaving like the person I once knew. I believe even Chu Qiao wouldn't want to see you acting so contrary to the greater good. Even without you waiting here for her, with her capabilities, she would surely return safely to Yanbei."
Yan Xun slowly raised his head, his voice low as he murmured, "I know everything you're saying. I'm just... worried. Afraid that if she comes and doesn't find me waiting here, she'll be disappointed."
"What?" Miss Yu stared at him in astonishment. He had stubbornly kept the entire army waiting in this dangerous position for the Southwest Garrison Commander—not because he feared for her safety, but simply because he worried she would be disappointed not to see him?"It might sound ridiculous," Yan Xun smiled self-deprecatingly and shook his head: "As long as one is human, it's inevitable to act foolishly once, and I'm no exception. This time I deceived her, abandoned the officers and soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander. Though she didn't say anything, she must be angry with me deep down. I just want to explain it to her personally."
Miss Yu raised her eyebrows: "But..."
"I understand," Yan Xun interrupted her: "After tonight, if she still hasn't arrived, we'll leave."
Miss Yu sighed and nodded: "In that case, I shall take my leave first."
Yan Xun stepped forward: "Let me see you out."
Just as they stepped out of the camp gate, a sharp sword suddenly came from the side, swift as lightning, accompanied by a fierce shout that exploded like thunder in their ears! Yan Xun's reaction was instantaneous, like a leopard sensing danger. His movements flowed seamlessly as he abruptly sprang into action, swiftly drawing the short blade from his waist to block the incoming sword. He bent sideways with perfect timing, narrowly evading the deadly strike!
"Protect His Highness!" Miss Yu calmly shouted as guards from both sides rushed forward simultaneously. After a brief scuffle, they quickly subdued the assassin!
Standing amidst the crowd, Yan Xun frowned at the young man before him, his brow deeply furrowed as he said in a low voice: "I told you, don't let there be a third time!"
The man appeared to be around twenty years old, with handsome features. The sunny vitality he once possessed had vanished, replaced entirely by a cold, murderous aura. He stared coldly at Yan Xun and said grimly: "Those who betray their lord and country deserve death!"
"Stubborn fool!" Yan Xun snorted coldly: "Zhao Song, this is the last time. For the sake of our past friendship, I'll spare you one final time. If we meet again, I won't show any mercy!"
Zhao Song sneered: "Yan Xun, I thought your heart was truly made of iron. You've killed so many people in the capital, why can't you bring yourself to kill me? But if you don't kill me today, you'll surely regret it!"
Yan Xun turned away, refusing to look at him: "Let him go."
"Where is Chun'er? Where is she?"
"I told you Zhao Chun'er isn't with me."
Zhao Song flew into a rage: "You're lying!"
Yan Xun's expression turned icy: "I have no reason to take away a Daxia princess who has already lost her power."
Zhao Song nodded silently, as if he already knew Zhao Chun'er wasn't with Yan Xun. He lifted his head, looked at Yan Xun, and said solemnly: "Yan Xun, from this day forward, our eight years of friendship mean nothing. When we meet again, I will still take your life, and you need not show me any mercy. You've spared me three times. If someday I can kill you, I will commit suicide to repay this life debt. But the blood debt of the capital, the hundred thousand citizens lying dead in the streets—this account must be settled!"
Yan Xun remained silent. His robes flapped fiercely in the Ximaliang wind, like a great bird taking flight. His expression was calm and unruffled, but only his eyes were as dark as the deep sea.
"And A Chu," Zhao Song's voice suddenly softened slightly. He stepped forward a little and said quietly: "I have a few words—please pass them on to her."The soldiers tightened their grips on their sword hilts, standing ready as he stepped forward. Yet upon hearing this, Yan Xun merely turned slightly and even took a light step forward.
"Tell her that I..."
At that moment, a dull thud suddenly echoed, and immense pain instantly surged from his chest. Zhao Song lunged violently, the dagger in his hand plunging deep into Yan Xun’s chest!
"Your Highness!"
"Young Master!"
"Kill the assassin!"
Zhao Song’s expression was icy as he yanked the dagger out and swung it down again, aiming straight for Yan Xun’s heart!
In the distance, the other guards were still too far away. Yan Xun, gripping a short blade, pushed off with his toes and swiftly retreated a step. Unfortunately, the blood loss from his chest wound left him weak, allowing Zhao Song to close half the distance in an instant.
In the blink of an eye, as Zhao Song’s dagger was about to pierce Yan Xun’s heart, the man’s short blade rose. A single horizontal slash would have severed Zhao Song’s throat. In that split second, all the hardships of the past flashed before his eyes—the arduous years, the turbulent history, the youth trapped in despair and the imperial favored son. In a lightning-quick decision, Yan Xun twisted his wrist, and the blade swept across Zhao Song’s dagger-wielding arm, slicing down brutally from the shoulder!
A crisp snap echoed as the dagger clattered to the ground, followed by a spray of blood and a severed, still-living arm!
"Ah!" A piercing scream erupted as Zhao Song collapsed to the ground, curling up and writhing in agony, clutching his severed limb!
Yan Xun also fell, blood gushing from the wound on his chest. The guards rushed forward in a flurry of panic. Miss Yu, her expression sharp, was about to speak when a cry suddenly emerged from the supply cart. A small soldier in oversized military attire burst out weeping and ran forward—it was none other than the Daxia princess, Zhao Chun'er, who had been secretly following the Yanbei Army all along!
Miss Yu’s face darkened as she commanded sternly, "Fetch a physician at once! Someone, execute these two!"
"Wait!"
A low, strained voice spoke with difficulty. Yan Xun, brows furrowed and face pale, on the brink of death, slowly uttered word by word, "Let them go!"
The crowd froze in astonishment. A Jing cried out, "Your Highness!"
"I said... let them go!"
As A Jing prepared to argue further, Miss Yu swiftly stopped him. She bowed her head and said to Yan Xun, "Young Master, I will arrange for someone to escort them back to Zhenhuang City."
Yan Xun gave a slow nod, then his head lolled to the side as he lost consciousness.
"Your Highness!" A Jing shouted, turning to grab his war blade and stride toward Zhao Song. Miss Yu seized his arm and said firmly, "Do you wish me to break my promise to His Highness?"
A Jing stared blankly, protesting in grievance, "Miss?"
"Someone, prepare a carriage and horses. Select ten men to escort these two back. Tend to his wounds—do not let him die on the journey."
The guards reluctantly went to make arrangements. Zhao Chun'er, holding the blood-soaked and unconscious Zhao Song, looked terrified and bewildered. The frail young girl seemed utterly petrified.
Miss Yu followed the others into the main tent, paying no further attention to the pair outside. Approaching Yan Xun’s bedside, she saw the man’s brow deeply furrowed, his face ashen—his condition was critically grave.The military physician was quickly summoned. The elderly man examined the patient for a while, then lifted his head and glanced around at the people present. His gaze finally settled on Miss Yu's face as he said gravely, "The lung has been pierced. The wound is deep. I cannot guarantee success."
Miss Yu looked at the old man and declared resolutely, "The young master must not come to harm. You must succeed, sir."
The old man frowned deeply, pondered for a long moment, and finally sighed. "Not only that, miss. The dagger... was poisoned."
Instantly, the tent fell so silent one could hear a pin drop.
"Poi... poisoned?"
Recommended reading: Feng Xinglie's torrential masterpiece: "Cloud Frenzy"
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