On the Official Post Road from Ximaliang to Liuhe County, a group of people and horses waited quietly under the pale, desolate moonlight. The wan moonlight cast a pallid glow over the silent assembly of nearly ten thousand individuals, all gazing eastward along the official road as if anticipating something.
As soon as Miss Yu entered the main tent, the men inside immediately rose to their feet. Her brow was furrowed, yet her tone remained as calm as ever: "Any news?"
"Not yet," replied a man dressed in a scholar's blue robe. He had a clear-cut but somewhat gaunt face with a sallow complexion. "There's no need to worry, Miss. Since Mr. Wu instructed us to wait here, there shouldn't be any issues."
"I'm not concerned about ambushes," the woman said, her face pale and dark circles evident under her eyes—clear signs of prolonged exhaustion. Rubbing her temples, she took a seat in the left corner and spoke gravely: "Our Scout Cavalry patrols within a thirty-li radius. What worries me is the Young Master's injuries. Thankfully, Mr. Wu arrived in time—who knows what those quack doctors would have done?"
The others wore similarly grim expressions. Yan Xun, severely wounded, had stubbornly refused to leave Ximaliang. Halfway through their journey, the unconscious patient awoke, forcibly dismounted from the carriage, and rode back to Bieyapo. This iron-willed leader's obstinance and willfulness were unprecedented to those present, leaving everyone uneasy and disinclined to speak.
Miss Yu sighed and addressed the blue-robed man: "Kong Ru, how many troops has Mr. Wu brought? Are they properly settled?"
"He brought three thousand reinforcements. Actually, you've already entered Yanbei's jurisdiction. The magistrate of Liuhe County ahead is Mr. Meng, the Southwest Provisions Officer of our Great Alliance Society."
Miss Yu raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Wasn't Mr. Meng the private tutor at the magistrate's residence? When did he become the magistrate?"
Kong Ru smiled. "Liuhe is a small county—no wonder you weren't aware. The previous Yanbei Chief sent from Zhenhuang City was an insatiably greedy fellow. As soon as he took office, he began selling official positions. The Society Leader spent a fortune to purchase magistracy posts along the route from the capital to Yanbei—all for this very day."
Miss Yu nodded slowly. "The Society Leader's foresight and meticulous planning are indeed thorough."
"Miss!" hurried footsteps sounded outside the tent. Miss Yu quickly stepped forward and lifted the tent flap as Bian Cang dismounted, panting heavily. "Mr. Wu says we should camp here and wait for him and His Highness to return."
Miss Yu frowned but ultimately nodded. "Take two hundred troops back with you. If anything happens, report immediately."
"Yes!"
As Bian Cang turned to leave, Miss Yu suddenly remembered something and called out, "Bian Cang, who did A Jing assign to escort the Thirteenth Prince of Daxia back?"Upon hearing this, the faces of those behind them instantly darkened, and even the guards at the door showed signs of anger. These members of the Great Alliance Society all came from humble backgrounds—some were from fallen clans, some were lowly commoners, and the majority were slaves of the lowest status. The Great Xia Dynasty enforced a strict hierarchical system and long-standing tyranny, causing the people to grow alienated from the court. Those living at the bottom harbored deep resentment toward Great Xia. Now, a prince of Great Xia had severely injured their leader and departed unscathed, leaving the entire camp seething with indignation.
Bian Cang was well aware that this was not the right time to bring up such a matter, so he deliberately replied with indifference, "I'm not too sure either. You'd better wait for A Jing to return and ask him in detail."
Unexpectedly, Miss Yu raised her eyebrows, her voice sharp and stern, "Nonsense! If I could wait for him to return, why would I ask you?"
Bian Cang's old face flushed red, and he nervously rubbed his hands together. In the presence of the most renowned leader of the Great Alliance Society, he dared not be too careless. He muttered under his breath, "A Jing seemed to have selected ten men from the Twelfth Battalion."
Miss Yu pressed further, "Did A Jing personally select them?"
"Ah?" Bian Cang was taken aback, then answered vaguely, "Yes, I think so."
"Is it yes or no?"
"Yes," Bian Cang immediately confirmed, "He personally selected them."
Miss Yu let out a long sigh of relief and said with relief, "That's good then."
"Miss, may I take my leave now?"
"Go ahead."
The sound of hoofbeats rose as Bian Cang swiftly rode away from the main tent. He then went to the edge of the camp, selected two small squads, and headed toward Bieyapo in Ximaliang.
The moonlight was as cool as water, and the air grew increasingly desolate. Often, it is a small lie that changes the course of history—the speaker pays it no mind, and the listener does not take it to heart. Such trivial matters seem like a grain of sand thrown into a great river amid earth-shattering events, unnoticed by anyone. Yet, in some neglected corner, that tiny grain of sand miraculously flows into the floodgate blocking the torrent, becoming the final straw that breaks it. Thus, the gate is destroyed, and the flood surges forth. People panic in the face of disaster, cursing the injustice of heaven, unaware that the disaster took root and sprouted from their own hands.
Bian Cang did not know that, on that night, A Jing had not personally selected the men to escort Zhao Song. He had been thrown into a panic by the assassination attempt on Yan Xun and hastily delegated this seemingly insignificant task to his subordinate. His subordinate was a martial artist of exceptional skill, capable of wielding a two-hundred-pound broadsword. This highly capable man deeply believed that A Jing, the guard captain, assigning him such a trivial task was an insult to his abilities. So, with a wave of his hand, he shouted, "Whoever wants to go, go!"
Thus, the soldiers—who had been oppressed for half their lives, whose families had died tragically under the empire's blade, and who harbored deep-seated hatred for the Great Xia Dynasty—vied fiercely for the mission.
In the end, ten soldiers with the loudest voices, the most resolute attitudes, and the most determined eyes won the honor and took on this great task: escorting Zhao Song and Zhao Chun'er back to the imperial capital of Zhenhuang.Often, we cannot help but marvel at the contingency of history. If only Guard Captain A Jing hadn't casually assigned this matter to such a brute, but instead entrusted it to a prudent civil official; or if that brute hadn't selected the escort warriors through a general recruitment but simply designated a squad; or if Miss Yu had asked one more question, if Bian Cang had given a proper answer—the outcome might never have been what it is today.
Yet, we also cannot help but acknowledge the inevitability of history. At that time, Yan Xun was injured, and A Jing, as his chief personal guard, bore inescapable responsibility, leaving him no mind for such trivial matters. His subordinates were all formidable warriors dedicated to protecting Yan Xun's safety, few of whom were particularly sharp-witted. Moreover, the sudden arrival of Wu Daoya caused Miss Yu and Bian Cang to let down their guard.
Thus, an unavoidable outcome took root in the southwestern lands. History shifted dramatically at this moment, like a great river abruptly changing course, flowing henceforth in a different direction. Many hands that should have joined, many shoulders that should have stood side by side, many locks of hair that should have been bound together—all lost their chance and reason to accompany one another. It was only much later, as time rushed by and years flowed like water, that when weathered eyes met once more, they deeply understood the profound meaning of the phrase "how fate toys with us."
"Young Master," Wu Daoya slowly ascended the slope, clad in a blue cloak, his features clear and distinct, temples frosted with white, his steps still steady, his voice slightly hoarse as he said, "The wind is strong here. Return to the tent to wait."
"No need," a low voice responded, like a cold wind rustling through the woods, laden with profound weariness and heaviness. The weather wasn't particularly cold, yet Yan Xun wore a white fur cloak, the tails of white sable gathered around his neck, making his face appear as pale as paper, utterly bloodless. He reclined on a stretcher converted into a lounge chair, his legs covered with a thick white satin quilt, and sighed softly, "Let me properly feel the wind of Yanbei. It has been many years."
He didn't finish his sentence, but Wu Daoya knew what he meant by "many years." Mr. Wu nodded in agreement, "Yes, it has been many years."
Yan Xun suddenly chuckled softly, "Back in the capital, I always told A Chu that the wind of Yanbei is sweet, carrying the scent of Snow Lotus from Huihui Mountain. But now, I can no longer smell it. If she were to come, she would surely blame me for lying to her."
The wise strategist of the Datong Army sighed deeply, "The wind in your memory is sweet, Young Master, but the Yanbei of today is no longer the Yanbei you remember."
"Yes, the people of the past are all gone." Yan Xun's gaze was profound as he stared into the vast, ink-like darkness ahead. The cold wind blew from the distant post road, tousling the black hair on his forehead."I remember, the year I left Yanbei, I was only nine years old. At that time, the imperial capital ordered all regional garrison princes to send hostages to the capital, but none of the princes responded. Prince Jing even publicly refuted the emperor's decree. One day, the emperor sent a letter to my father. After reading it, Father remained silent for a long time, then said to us brothers, 'Among you, who is willing to go to the imperial capital? Just for one year. Upon returning, that person will become Yanbei's Crown Prince.' None of us wanted to go, and none of us wanted to be Crown Prince. My eldest brother, being older and more sensible, asked Father, 'Aren't you and the emperor brothers? Why does the emperor still distrust you?' Father fell silent for a long time before saying gravely, 'Precisely because we are brothers—if I don't support him, who will?' That day, I decided to go to the imperial capital. He is my father. If I don't support him, who will?"
Yan Xun suddenly let out a soft laugh, the smile bitter, his eyes gentle as water yet etched with profound weariness. He no longer resembled a man in his twenties but seemed like an elder who had weathered decades of life's cycles.
"The journey to the imperial capital was unpredictable in fortune and misfortune. My eldest and third brothers both fought to go, but because they held official positions, Father ultimately chose me. On the day of my departure, they followed behind my carriage all the way, seeing me off to Duomaling, Liuhe County, and Ximaliang. Finally, they stood here at Bieyapo—Father, eldest brother, second sister, and third brother all together, with a large contingent of Yanbei warriors behind them. The Golden Lion Banner of my father fluttered in the sky. From afar, I turned back and could still see my second sister secretly wiping tears, hear my third brother shouting hoarsely for me to be careful. My eldest brother said the imperial capital was colder than Yanbei and personally made me a hand warmer, which I used for five years until the day news of Father's tragic fate arrived, when it was shattered by officials in Zhenhuang City."
Yan Xun sneered coldly, his tone detached. "Bieyapo, Bieyapo—it truly lived up to its name. That day's parting became a separation as vast as the ends of the earth."
"Sir?" Yan Xun turned his head, smiling faintly. "Did the Datong faction send you here because they feared I would punish the officers and soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander?"
Wu Daoya was taken aback, not expecting Yan Xun to shift the topic so abruptly. He smiled slightly and shook his head. "No, Young Master overthink it."
"Haha, you're truly dishonest." Yan Xun chuckled. "You were surely ordered to stop me, but after arriving, you suddenly learned that the one leading the Southwest Garrison Commander was A Chu, so you lost that concern and decided not to mention it to avoid offending me, right?"
Without waiting for Wu Daoya's reply, Yan Xun continued directly, "As for the Southwest Garrison Commander, I did harbor intentions to kill them. When I left them in the imperial capital, aside from wanting them to clash with the capital's armed forces, I also hoped they would be eradicated, no longer remaining in the world to be an eyesore. But A Chu saved them and brought them back from thousands of miles away. Ah, I suppose fate has been kind to them."
Upon hearing this, Wu Daoya's face lit up with joy, and he smiled. "Young Master is broad-minded, benevolent, and generous. To have you as our leader is a blessing for Yanbei.""Spare me the empty pleasantries. You know full well how bitterly I despise the Southwest Garrison Commander, and I'm only tolerating them out of necessity. If I were to eliminate the troops A Chu brought back from thousands of miles away, she'd grab a blade and fight me to the death."
Thinking of that frail yet stubborn young girl, Wu Daoya couldn't help but smile wryly. He cleared his throat and said slowly, "Given Xiao Qiao's temperament, that's quite likely."
"But in that case, we'd have no way to answer to the fallen souls of Yanbei beneath the earth."
The words were spoken lightly, like a passing breeze, yet the smile instantly froze on Wu Daoya's face. In those plain words, he seemed to hear bone-deep hatred and smell the thick scent of blood. Wu Daoya quickly responded, "Young Master, although the Southwest Garrison Commander was suspected of defecting to the enemy back then, most of the old soldiers are no longer in the camp now, and besides..."
"Merely joining such an army is itself an act of disloyalty to Yanbei!"
The young ruler's expression was icy, his tone resolute as he declared, "Back then, the Southwest Garrison Commander turned traitor at the front lines and defected to Daxia, causing my father's forces to collapse. Although most of these people later died in the Great Alliance Society's assassinations for revenge, the fact that anyone would still enlist under such an infamous banner is itself a desecration of Yanbei's bloodline and a betrayal of the Yan clan."
A cold wind suddenly rose, whipping the eagle banner overhead as it flapped fiercely in the dark night. The young Yan Xun's face remained cold, his voice low as he slowly stated, "Treason is the greatest crime, absolutely unforgivable! Perhaps Daxia's tyranny is ruthless, perhaps they had no other choice, but I must make the people of Yanbei understand that no matter the reason, betrayal leads only to death. No matter one's stance or justification, heaven will not grant forgiveness! If I pardon the Southwest Garrison Commander today, then tomorrow there will be a second, third, fourth, even a hundred or a thousand more Southwest Garrison Commanders. When that happens, Yanbei will surely repeat the tragedies of the past and sink into a sea of blood once more. Now, since they managed to escape from that death prison, they must pay for their actions. After they return, send them to guard the northwestern border—all assigned to the vanguard battalion."
Wu Daoya frowned deeply. The vanguard battalion at the northwestern border? That was Yanbei's alternative method of executing death row prisoners. Because Yanbei's population was sparse and they faced constant harassment from the Quanrong People, criminals who committed grave offenses in Yanbei were all conscripted into suicide squads to fight the Quanrong. With no supplies, no reinforcements, not even weapons or equipment, death seemed to be the only way out in such circumstances.
"Xiao Qiao won't agree to this."
"She won't know about it." The man said decisively, "Although A Chu appears strong on the surface, she's actually kind-hearted at core. She never kills indiscriminately, even against enemies. This kind of matter shouldn't involve her. Presumably, those who know about it won't disturb her either."
These words were meant for him. Wu Daoya sighed silently, finally giving up any attempt to change the situation. Suddenly, footsteps approached from the distance, and A Jing came forward, slightly bowing as he whispered, "Your Highness, it's time for your medicine."Yan Xun took the medicine bowl, tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. Black medicinal liquid trickled from the corner of his mouth. The man wiped it away with a white silk handkerchief and said in a low tone, "Mr. Wu, don't always think about the people's support and opinions. In terms of public favor, ten Great Xia Dynasties can't compare to one Great Alliance Society. Yet the Great Alliance Society has wandered the Ximeng Continent for hundreds of years, still remaining merely a factional organization rather than a political power. Ultimately, the reason Great Xia can rule this land of Hongchuan isn't due to public opinion or votes, but the blades in their hands."
"This subordinate understands."
A faint smile lifted the corner of Yan Xun's mouth as he chuckled lightly, "Do you truly understand?"
Wu Daoya, unwilling to continue the discussion, changed the subject and asked, "Young Master, dawn is approaching. If the young lady still doesn't come, we'll have to..."
"I'll go with you to Liuhe County for medical treatment - you've said this a hundred times already." Yan Xun frowned impatiently, then turned his face away to gaze at the pitch-black post road. Suddenly, a confident brilliance rose on his face: "Just watch, she will definitely come!"
**
Just as Yan Xun had said, the Southwest Garrison Commander at this moment was already less than a hundred li from Ximaliang. The soldiers rode on horseback, traveling day and night in urgent haste!
During the third watch, the night grew even deeper. The army halted at the foot of Baishi Mountain. For caution's sake, Chu Qiao dispatched thirty scouts to Ximaliang to gather information and contact the Yanbei Army. Over four thousand officers and soldiers sat where they were, lighting campfires, eating dry rations, and quietly waiting.
It had been raining continuously for the past few days, leaving the grassland quite damp. He Xiao came forward holding a fur felt mat, somewhat awkwardly offering it to Chu Qiao as he stammered, "Young lady, use this to sit on. The ground is cold."
"Thank you." Chu Qiao accepted it, smiling warmly at the young officer: "General He, have you eaten?"
He Xiao sat down, saying with some vexation, "How could I have any appetite?"
The young woman raised her eyebrows: "Oh? Does General He have something on his mind?"
After thinking for a long while, He Xiao finally mustered his courage and said solemnly, "Young lady, will His Highness truly forgive us? Can Yanbei truly accommodate the Southwest Garrison Commander?"
"General He, don't you trust me?"
He Xiao quickly shook his head: "The young lady has shown great kindness to our army. Without you, we would have long since perished. How could I doubt you?"
"Then trust me. I said I would protect the soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander, and I won't break my word. I also believe that Crown Prince Yan will absolutely let bygones be bygones and forgive the mistakes you've committed." The young woman's expression turned serious as she said with firm determination in her eyes: "Yanbei is facing great calamity. We need to unite as one to withstand the storms from outside."
"Young lady...""General He, everyone has unresolved inner conflicts and inevitably commits some irrational acts. When the Southwest Garrison Commander betrayed Yanbei back then, you were forced to join their military camp. Having served under the same war banner as those traitors became your shame—being misunderstood and oppressed simply because you weren't strong enough to command respect. But now things are different. You fought your way out of Zhenhuang Capital, swept across the northwestern continent unchallenged—you have become an iron army, having sacrificed lives and blood for Yanbei's independence. General He, one must first respect oneself to earn others' respect. Regardless of what Yanbei officials, Great Alliance Society commanders, or even the Crown Prince may think, you must first hold hope for your own future. You are their leader—only when you stand up first can you lead your soldiers to stand tall!"
He Xiao's face flushed crimson as he suddenly stood and knelt heavily on the ground, declaring loudly: "Miss! We've discussed this—only with you as our leader can we return to Yanbei with peace of mind."
Chu Qiao was taken aback and quickly rose: "What are you doing? Get up at once!"
"Miss! Please agree!"
As his words fell, countless voices rose in agreement behind him. Chu Qiao looked up to see soldiers standing in the distance—these men who had faced countless life-and-death situations without fear now hesitated on the threshold of returning home. Their faces were weathered dark, uniforms stained with blood, hands gripping battle swords, all gazing earnestly at the slender young woman. Their silent eyes brimmed with immense anticipation and hope.
"Miss, your exceptional talent and righteous courage in saving us all at the risk of your own life have made our submission to you wholehearted. Moreover, only under your war banner can we preserve our lives. We beg you not to decline further!"
"Miss! Please stop refusing!"
A thunderous roar suddenly erupted as all the soldiers knelt in unison, their impassioned shouts echoing through the air. The men’s iron-like knees struck the mountain rocks like rumbling war drums!
Chu Qiao stood atop the massive boulder, the mountaintop wind sharp as a blade, sweeping through the forest and buffeting her slender shoulders. Gazing into those eyes filled with fervor and hope, she finally shook her head slowly and said solemnly, "I'm sorry, I cannot agree."
"Miss!"
"Why?"
A clamor of shouts broke out instantly. Chu Qiao raised her hand, signaling for silence, and finally declared firmly, "However, I can pledge with my life that the officers and soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander will receive the treatment they deserve, commensurate with your achievements. A soldier’s duty is absolute obedience. Even if one day Yanbei holds a blade over my head, you must swing your swords without hesitation. Only then are you worthy of being true soldiers."
The world seemed bleak and desolate, with cold moonlight streaming down from the heavens. The young woman’s robes fluttered wildly in the night wind like unfurling wings. She spoke deliberately, word by word: "I refuse your request only to make you understand one truth: Yanbei has only one leader, and your loyalty belongs to one person alone—the Heir of Yanbei."
Under the solitary silver moon, the woman’s figure appeared ethereal and transcendent. The soldiers stared up in awe; at that moment, her small form seemed to possess a miraculous power.
"Miss, what about you?"
"Me? I will fight alongside you. I, too, have my own aspirations and ideals."
"What are your ideals, Miss?"
A faint, contented, and hopeful smile touched Chu Qiao’s lips. "In my lifetime, I wish to see him rule the world."
The night was cool as water, and across the dark expanse of Baishi Mountain, tumultuous winds swept through the dense forests, howling toward the distant north. Those steadfast convictions and resolute words shattered and fragmented in the wind, scattering into the boundless darkness.
The grasslands of Yanbei—I am finally coming.
**
"Miss!"
A frantic cry suddenly rang out as a scout galloped in on horseback, his shoulder stained with blood, shouting, "Our brothers have been ambushed ahead!"
"Ambushed?" He Xiao sprang to his feet, demanding loudly, "Who are they? How many troops do they have?"
"Only seven men, unidentified. Before our brothers could even speak, they charged at us with weapons."
Chu Qiao rose and said firmly, "Let’s go, take a look!"
The soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander mounted their horses and followed the woman ahead, thundering away.
Thirty against seven—the outcome was decided the moment they clashed. By the time Chu Qiao and the others arrived, the Southwest Garrison Commander’s scouts had already subdued the seven men. Uncertain of their identities, they had refrained from killing them, though everyone was disheveled and bloodstained.
At a glance, Chu Qiao found them familiar. Before she could speak, one of the men exclaimed joyfully, "It’s Miss Chu!"
The young woman frowned. "You know me?"
"I’m Song Qian, under Captain A Jing’s command!"
"You’re A Jing’s subordinate?" Chu Qiao’s expression cleared in understanding, and she turned to the others. "They’re on our side—a misunderstanding."He Xiao and the others were startled. Having just arrived in Yanbei, they were already uneasy. To have a conflict with the local troops right after arriving—how could they not be afraid? They quickly untied Song Qian and the others, stepping forward with a friendly demeanor to strike up a conversation.
"What are you all doing? Why are you in civilian clothes? Are you on a mission?"
At these words, the men’s expressions turned awkward. After thinking for a moment, Song Qian gave an embarrassed smile and said, "Miss, we are on a mission. You should hurry to Ximaliang. The Crown Prince has been waiting for you and hasn’t left yet."
As soon as he finished speaking, everyone felt a surge of joy. The Young Master Yan had actually taken such a great risk to wait for them. Could it be that he truly hadn’t intended to abandon the Southwest Garrison Commander? Were the words about sending Miss Chu to assist them actually true?
However, there was not a trace of joy on Chu Qiao’s face. Frowning, she looked at Song Qian and the others and asked sternly, "What mission are you on?"
"Miss, it’s a secret mission," Song Qian evaded. "We don’t dare wear military uniforms. There are too many people around, so it’s not appropriate to say."
"What’s not appropriate to say?" The young woman’s brows furrowed sharply as she said sternly, "The Crown Prince has never kept secrets from me. Now that we’re at war with the inland, why are you sneaking off in that direction? What exactly is your mission?"
Her sudden outburst frightened them all. Song Qian’s lips trembled as he thought for a long moment, but he still couldn’t come up with an explanation.
"Speak! Are you spies from the capital?"
"We’re not!"
With a sharp shua, Chu Qiao drew the sword at her waist, her phoenix-like eyes icy cold as she said in a low voice, "Speak! Are you or not?"
Terrified, Song Qian fell to his knees with a thud and cried out, "Miss, we’re not! We were ordered by the Guard Captain to escort the Thirteenth Prince back to the capital."
"The Thirteenth Prince?" Chu Qiao’s expression instantly changed drastically. "What did you say? Where is he?"
"He’s… he’s…"
"Where?" The cold blade pressed against Song Qian’s neck. The young woman’s face was as hard as iron, filled with the coldness of an impending storm.
"There… over there."
Chu Qiao’s expression was icy as she strode forward. He Xiao and the others quickly moved to protect her. Two soldiers pushed aside the grass ahead, revealing a dark, gaping cave. Taking a torch to illuminate the interior, the moment they saw what was inside, everyone’s faces turned deathly pale.
Chu Qiao stood at the cave entrance, gripping her sword, her brow tightly furrowed and her chest heaving violently. A frenzied killing intent surged in her eyes, like an overwhelming tide, raging and destroying everything in its path.
Three naked Yanbei Army soldiers stared in panic at Chu Qiao and the others, trembling like sieves. Behind them, a woman’s clothes had been torn to shreds. Her hands and feet were bound, her face swollen, her mouth bloody, and her hair a tangled mess like a clump of weeds. Her body was covered in bruises and bite marks, and her lower half was a mess. She lay there as if already a corpse, exuding an aura of desperate humiliation. Her tears had dried, leaving a pale, glistening trail down her cheeks.Deep within the cave, a one-armed man lay in a corner, his body covered in bloody wounds. The ropes binding his hands and feet were stained with blood and skin, evidence of his desperate struggles. Even in his unconscious state, his face remained contorted with rage, filled with a destructive despair and fury!
"You three, come out."
Chu Qiao's voice was hoarse, like broken strings. The surrounding soldiers were taken aback, turning to look at her in astonishment.
The girl was calm. She pointed at the three men inside and nodded. "Yes, you three."
Like frightened rabbits, the three men scrambled out, clutching their clothes in disarray. The officers and soldiers of the Southwest Garrison Commander made way for them, as if they carried some contagious disease, unwilling to even glance their way.
With a sharp cry, Chu Qiao suddenly mustered all her strength and swung her sword, decapitating one of the soldiers. A torrent of blood gushed forth, spurting wildly from his neck like a raging river. The other two soldiers, startled, drew their blades to retaliate, but He Xiao and the others unsheathed their long swords and closed in on them.
"He Xiao," Chu Qiao stepped over the man's corpse and strode into the cave, coldly tossing out an order, "Cut these two down with a flurry of blades."
"Yes!"
The sounds of fierce fighting erupted behind her, but Chu Qiao no longer had the strength to look back. She pushed aside the tangled wild grass and entered the cave, now filled with the stench of lust. Kneeling beside Zhao Chun'er, she helped her up, attempting to drape the torn garments over her.
"Miss! Spare us! Ah!"
A scream pierced the air, followed by the two men's desperate pleas for mercy. In the face of death, fear stripped them of their sanity, and they cried out wildly, "It was the prince's order! We were only following commands!"
"Miss, spare us!"
"Miss…"
A tear suddenly slid from Zhao Chun'er's eye, tracing a path down her fair skin and over the repulsive marks left on her body. Like a broken doll, tears streamed down her face one after another. Her mind went blank, the innocent days of her past vanishing like a winter gale, howling away from her life. Those beautiful, youthful days had now become an unparalleled mockery, ridiculing her foolishness and insignificance to the extreme. She bit her lip hard, tears falling in large drops as she fought to suppress her sobs.
Chu Qiao's hands grew stiff amidst the noise outside. Her head bowed, she struggled to fasten the torn fabric around Zhao Chun'er. Her eyes were wide, red-rimmed, and her face was as pale as paper. She removed her own outer robe and draped it over Zhao Chun'er, then moved behind her to comb her hair.
"Can you still stand?"
Chu Qiao stood before Zhao Chun'er and asked in a hushed voice.
Zhao Chun'er finally showed a flicker of response. She lifted her head and looked at the woman clad in military attire. Chu Qiao extended her hand and continued, "I'll take you out. I'll send you home."
Suddenly, a flash of intense hatred ignited in Zhao Chun'er's eyes. She grabbed Chu Qiao's hand and, like a frenzied beast, sank her teeth into it with brutal force!Blood instantly trickled down Chu Qiao's wrist, dripping one drop after another onto Zhao Chun'er's clothes. The frenzied young girl bit down with all her might, stubbornly refusing to let go. Chu Qiao pressed her lips tightly together, slowly crouched down, and wrapped her other arm around Zhao Chun'er's shoulder. Tears streamed down silently as she spoke in a low, hoarse voice: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Wuu... Ah!"
After a brief sob, Zhao Chun'er finally burst into heart-wrenching wails. The once proud daughter of heaven now resembled lowly wild grass, her entire body covered with wounds left by commoners' trampling. Clutching the back of this girl she had detested for eight whole years, she wept with devastating despair.
"Why? Why treat me like this? I'll kill you all! Kill you all! Kill you all!"
Chu Qiao remained motionless as Zhao Chun'er pounded fiercely on her. She gazed at the man lying in the pool of blood, at his ferocious face and tightly knitted thick brows, yet she couldn't connect this man with the youth in pine-green robes from her memories. Countless fragmented images swept through her mind like a violent storm—a handsome man standing before her with a beaming smile, laughing joyfully: "A Chu, I've come of age and can establish my own residence to take a princess consort!"
Chu Qiao's tears could no longer be restrained. Covering her mouth, she broke down in uncontrollable sobs.
Thirteen, thirteen, thirteen...
The rain had started during the fourth watch that night. After Zhao Chun'er and Zhao Song boarded the carriage, Chu Qiao came to the open grassland, followed by a large group of Southwest Garrison Commander soldiers with ferocious expressions. Song Qian and others looked panicked, like wretched wild dogs.
"Who cut off Zhao Song's arm?"
"His Highness did it?"
Chu Qiao frowned sharply and shouted sternly: "Lies!"
"Miss, I'm not lying!" Song Qian cried out in terror, tears streaming down his face. "It really was His Highness! He came to assassinate His Highness, who cut off his arm. Miss Yu wanted to kill them, but His Highness wouldn't allow it, so he sent us to escort them back to the capital."
Chu Qiao took a deep breath and said solemnly: "Why didn't His Highness kill them?"
"Guard Captain Jing said... said he was afraid you'd be angry," Song Qian replied, then quickly added, fearing Chu Qiao would bring up their abuse of power: "But... but if we acted on the road, you wouldn't know, so you wouldn't be angry."
Chu Qiao's voice was low as the heavy rain drenched her hair: "Was that also Guard Captain Jing's words?"
"This... yes, yes!"
Seeing Chu Qiao's grim expression, He Xiao immediately shouted: "One more lie and I'll cut you down!"
"No need to say more," Chu Qiao raised her head and declared firmly: "Take them away and execute them all!"
"I'm not lying!" Song Qian wept. "Miss, look at us—which of us hasn't suffered the most from the Daxia people in the army? How many of our parents, wives, children, brothers and sisters died at the hands of Daxia officials? If they didn't want us to take action, why were we specially selected from various battalions?"
"That's right!" another soldier shouted. "So what if we beat him? So what if we slept with a Daxia princess? My sister was violated by Daxia nobles! When my parents went to report it, they were beaten to death in the court! What did I do wrong?""Exactly! Miss, what wrong have we done? Why must we be punished?"
"Let me tell you what wrong you've committed!"
A flash of lightning suddenly split the sky, illuminating the world in blinding whiteness. The young woman turned around, pointing at the carriage as she slowly enunciated each word: "Because those who killed your parents, those who violated your sisters, those who oppressed and persecuted you—were not them!"
Terrified screams immediately erupted. Chu Qiao didn't turn back. She merely gazed quietly at the carriage, her footsteps heavy as if weighted down by massive stones, unable to take even one step forward.
"Miss!" He Xiao strode forward, wiping the water from his face as he said gruffly, "We've already slaughtered those beasts."
"He Xiao, you should proceed to Ximaliang on your own." Chu Qiao's face was pale as she spoke softly. "I cannot accompany you there."
"Miss!" He Xiao exclaimed in shock, raising his voice. "Why not?"
Thunder rumbled while torrential rain poured down. The pelting raindrops striking their faces concealed tears that shouldn't be revealed.
"Because... I have more important matters to attend to."
**
The morning sun rose as the heavy rain ceased, leaving the world fresh and clean, as if all filth and sin had been washed away by the downpour.
Atop the high slopes of Bieyapo stood a tall man dressed in white fur robes. His face was pale, his eyes dark as ink, quietly gazing at the distant mountains and rivers.
"Young Master, it's time we departed."
Wu Daoya stood behind Yan Xun, speaking softly.
Yan Xun remained silent, staring into the distance. When the cold wind blew, his sickly frame suddenly began coughing violently—the sound so heavy it seemed to carry the metallic scent of blood in the air.
"Young Master?"
"Mm." Yan Xun waved his hand, slowly turning around while refusing Wu Daoya's offered support. Coughing intermittently, he gradually descended the slope.
The green mountains rolled continuously into the distance. Beyond the unseen ridges, a simple blue-curtained carriage moved slowly along. High in the vast sky, a snow-white eagle circled and cried mournfully, following the carriage as it gradually departed from Yanbei's skies.
OpenNovel