The desolate wilderness stretched for hundreds of miles without a trace of human habitation. Years of war and slaughter had turned this land into scorched earth. Whenever armies passed through, the common people would scatter in all directions, seeking other places to settle. Yet in this turbulent era of chaos, where could one truly find a peaceful paradise?
For three consecutive days, the heavy rain poured relentlessly. With the north wind howling and torrents falling, the carriage arrived at a dilapidated village. Everywhere they looked, there were blackened ruins. Finding a relatively intact house, Chu Qiao carried the still-unconscious Zhao Song inside. Working deftly, she cleaned the room, gathered clean dry grass, collected firewood and started a fire. In less than half an hour, the room had grown warm.
This uninhabited area was in the central Sichuan region. It was here that Chu Qiao had previously passed through with the Southwest Garrison Commander, engaging in a battle not far away against Zhao Yang's expeditionary army. Clearly, the local villagers had been frightened into fleeing during that conflict. Aside from food and clothing, they had left everything behind in their haste—cooking pots, bowls, and utensils remained intact, the water vats still contained clean water, and the firewood shed held large bundles of winter firewood.
Carrying a bowl of warm water, Chu Qiao walked over to Zhao Chun'er, who sat alone in a corner of the room. She crouched down and handed her dried rations and water.
The former imperial princess neither looked up nor showed any disdain for the simple fare. Silently, she accepted the food, lowered her head to drink some water, and remained quiet without uttering a word.
Throughout their journey, Zhao Chun'er had maintained this demeanor. Surprisingly, she displayed no hostility toward Chu Qiao, nor any obvious resistance. She was obedient, compliant, and spoke little—eating when food was given, drinking when water was offered. When the road became difficult, she would get down and push the carriage together with Chu Qiao in the heavy rain. When there was no dry firewood, she would eat the hard-to-swallow coarse grains with cold water, just like Chu Qiao. When encountering shallow rivers, she would dismount and wade through the water. When meeting unruly mobs, she would imitate Chu Qiao, picking up a knife with a fierce, wolf-like glint in her eyes. Yet, she rarely spoke. Aside from Zhao Song, she showed no interest in anything else.
Chu Qiao knew that Zhao Chun'er felt no gratitude toward her, nor was she paralyzed by fear. In the wake of that humiliating disaster, this young girl had matured at an astonishing speed. Something had changed in her, unnoticed by others. Chu Qiao even worriedly wondered whether her current actions might ultimately lead to her own downfall.
Crumbling the dried rations into a bowl of hot water, Chu Qiao went to Zhao Song's side. Using two fingers, she pried open his mouth and forcibly fed him the food.
The man's brow was furrowed, and his chin was covered with newly grown stubble. Unlike Yan Xun and Zhuge Yue, Zhao Song had once possessed an amiable round face, thick eyebrows, and the fiery temper of a young lion, his face always flushed with energy. Yet, in just a few short days, the once vibrant youth had been reduced to a gaunt figure, his face as pale as a sheet of paper.
Seeing his empty right sleeve and blood-stained clothes, Chu Qiao gently turned her head away, unable to bear the sight.
"Hmm..."
A low groan suddenly broke the silence. The previously quiet Zhao Chun'er instantly sprang up like a wild animal, stumbling forward in a rush.Zhao Song's brows were tightly furrowed, his face etched with pain. Chu Qiao knelt anxiously beside him, gripping his hand tightly as she whispered urgently, "Thirteen? Thirteen?"
"Fool... don't go..."
Broken, rasping words escaped the man's lips. His eyes remained tightly shut, veins bulging on his forehead, his face contorted in agony like a beast trapped in a cage.
"Thirteenth Brother!" Zhao Chun'er threw herself over Zhao Song, crying out loudly, "Thirteenth Brother, Chun'er is here! I won't go anywhere!"
Chu Qiao, pushed aside by Zhao Chun'er, couldn't help but murmur softly, "Princess, be careful of his wounds."
"Step back!" The young girl whipped her head around, her expression severe and filled with cold disgust as she glared at Chu Qiao.
"Don't... go with him... you'll... you'll die..."
"Thirteenth Brother," Zhao Chun'er's face was desolate as she nodded repeatedly, "Chun'er understands, don't worry."
Zhao Song's face bore an unnatural flush, as if he were running a fever. Chu Qiao stood nearby, unsure how to approach the siblings. She thought about turning away to fetch water, but just as she started to move, a hoarse voice nailed her feet firmly to the ground.
"I... I can also... protect... you... A Chu..."
Zhao Chun'er instantly froze, her face turning deathly pale as if possessed by a ghost. She turned to stare at Chu Qiao, then looked back at the unconscious Zhao Song. Suddenly, a bitter, ugly smile twisted her lips. She returned to the corner piled with dry grass, hugged her knees, and buried her head deeply.
Throughout the night, Zhao Song rambled deliriously. Sometimes he cursed Yan Xun for his betrayal, sometimes he screamed frantically for Chun'er to run, but most often he begged Chu Qiao pitifully—pleading for her to stay, begging her not to leave.
This man who had once drawn a line on the Nine Weeds Long Street, decisive and sharp as he severed ties with her, now exposed all his fragility and vulnerability on this rainy night. Every word was like a knife, mercilessly carving away at Chu Qiao's heart.
As dawn approached, he suddenly regained consciousness. Chu Qiao had watched over him all night, giving him water and cooling his forehead with damp cloths. When she saw him wake, she exclaimed with joyful surprise, "You're awake?"
The sound stirred Zhao Chun'er from her light sleep. The young girl opened her eyes to look over but didn't approach.
Zhao Song's gaze was dazed; for a moment he didn't even know where he was. He looked at Chu Qiao, his eyes shifting from initial delight to confusion, then passing through pain, regret, resentment, and anger before finally being covered by immense indifference. His gaze was so cold, like eternal ice atop snowy peaks, sending chills down one's spine. In his eyes, Chu Qiao seemed to relive their years of friendship—from their first meeting to becoming closest confidants, until everything crumbled beneath those towering palace walls.
In that instant, Chu Qiao finally understood a truth she had long known but still harbored some hope against: she and Zhao Song could truly never be friends again. Some wounds had already formed, just like his severed arm—no matter how she tried to mend things, nothing could ever return to how it was before.
"Chun'er?"Zhao Song turned his head to look at Zhao Chun'er in the corner, his voice hoarse like a rusty saw. With his only arm, he reached out toward the frail young woman from afar.
Zhao Chun'er pursed her lips, crawled over on her knees, her eyes red-rimmed and lips trembling. Yet she forced out a smile uglier than crying, desperately clutching Zhao Song's hand.
Outside, the rain poured down in torrents while inside the fire crackled. The siblings who had survived disaster sat facing each other in silence like two statues, all unspoken words transforming into two sorrowful gazes that met in the confined space.
"Chun'er," the young prince no longer possessed his former sunshine and carefree spirit. Like an aged old man, he tightly held his sister's hand and said in a low voice, "I've failed you."
Zhao Chun'er didn't speak, only shaking her head desperately. The tears she had held back all this journey finally fell at this moment, scattering wildly as she shook her head.
Chu Qiao slowly stood up. No one looked at her, no one noticed her. In this atmosphere, her presence seemed so superfluous. She bore undeniable responsibility for everything that had happened today - she was the indirect executioner, there was no denying it.
The young woman turned around, picked up the sword from the ground, held up a tattered mat, opened the door and walked out.
The door creaked shut behind her. Outside, the rain fell in sheets while the cold wind howled like a mad beast running amok.
Holding the mat over her head, she quickly ran to the stable. The black warhorse snorted happily upon seeing her approach, excitedly shaking its head.
Chu Qiao shook the rainwater off her clothes, smiled and walked forward, patting the horse's neck. With a faint smile, she said, "You still welcome me, don't you?"
Whether the horse understood her words or not, seeing its master's friendly gesture, it only knew to happily shake its head.
"I can only seek shelter with you tonight."
Chu Qiao smiled and sat down leaning against the horse. The horse pressed close to her, affectionately rubbing its neck up and down against her arm.
With a thud, something fell out of the saddlebag. When Chu Qiao picked it up, she found it was a small flask of strong liquor.
She hadn't drunk alcohol for many years, yet that day when parting with the Southwest Garrison Commander, she had inexplicably taken a flask of liquor from He Xiao.
Outside, the wind and rain grew stronger, the world shrouded in gray, making it almost impossible to see the rising sun. Inside the house, warmth filled the room as the fire continued burning, casting the shadows of two figures on the window paper, faint and indistinct.
The young woman sat in the stable, one leg bent, leaning against the horse. With one hand resting on her sword and the other holding the liquor flask, she raised her head and drank.
The strong liquor burned her throat like fire, suddenly causing her to cough violently as if trying to cough up her lungs. The startled horse looked at her in alarm. While coughing, she comfortingly patted its neck, coughing and laughing simultaneously: "It's okay... cough... I'm fine..."
As she laughed, tears streamed from the corners of her eyes like winding streams, drop by drop falling on her cheeks, trembling with her violent coughing.
Heaven and earth were connected by the curtain of rain, showing no sign of clearing. Everything resembled a simple sketch - on the dark ruins, the young woman's figure appeared thin and frail, so utterly desolate.**
In the early morning, the heavy rain finally ceased. Sunlight peeked through the thick fog before quickly hiding again. After feeding the horses, Chu Qiao came to the door and knocked gently, her voice slightly hoarse as she called out softly, "Are you awake? It's time to set off."
There was a rustling sound from inside. Chu Qiao stepped aside and stood quietly. A moment later, the wooden door creaked open, and Zhao Chun'er stood at the doorway, her expression cold but her tone calm. "Thirteenth Brother asks you to come in."
Chu Qiao nodded and followed Zhao Chun'er into the house.
Zhao Song sat amidst a pile of straw, his hair neatly combed by Zhao Chun'er and his beard shaved, making him look much more refreshed. If not for the empty sleeve, she might have thought it was all just a nightmare.
"Leave," Zhao Song's gaze was icy as he looked over, his voice calm but carrying a chilling indifference. "I don't want to see you again."
Having anticipated this, Chu Qiao remained unruffled and replied calmly, "I must escort you back. The journey to Zhenhuang is long, and I don't feel at ease letting you travel alone."
Zhao Song's eyebrows lifted sharply, his eyes cutting through Chu Qiao like knives. "What does it matter to you whether we live or die?"
A pang of pain struck her heart as if a piece of flesh had been carved out. Chu Qiao took a deep breath and continued, "After the war in Sichuan, the area is filled with refugees and bandits. The major clans and feudal lords are all watching, and armed forces everywhere are rapidly expanding. At this time, the imperial authority of the Zhao Clan can no longer intimidate them. Until you return to Zhenhuang, you must not reveal your identities. Bandits are gathering in large numbers at the western Sichuan pass, roaming around the He Tao region. You—"
"Enough," Zhao Song interrupted impatiently, his brows furrowing deeply. "I said, what does it matter to you whether we live or die?"
Her heart felt as if a massive stone were pressing down on it. Chu Qiao took a deep breath and, after a long pause, said hoarsely, "Zhao Song, I know you hate me, and I know that nothing I do can atone for my sins. But I cannot stand by and watch you go to your deaths."
Zhao Song let out a cold laugh, raising his eyebrows as he looked at Chu Qiao and said icily, "A Chu, do you know what I used to like most about you?"
Chu Qiao was taken aback and immediately looked up. Zhao Song spoke slowly, word by word, "What I used to like most about you was exactly this demeanor of yours—always so confident. No matter your status, identity, or circumstances, you never belittled yourself, never lost hope, and always remained steadfast, firmly believing in your own abilities."
"But," Zhao Song's eyes darkened abruptly, his lips curling coldly, "now I truly despise this side of you—arrogant, self-righteous, always wearing the face of a savior. Who do you think you are? What do you think you're doing now? Offering charity? Seeking redemption? Or trying to do something so you can return to that beast with a clear conscience and live your lives?"
Chu Qiao shook her head, biting her lower lip, and tried to explain, "Zhao Song, I—"
"Get out! Don't let me see you again!" Zhao Song roared angrily. "I've told you long ago, the ties between us have long been severed. If we meet again, it will be a fight to the death. Betraying the empire, slaughtering the people—you could die a hundred times and still not atone for your crimes!"
"Zhao Song…"
"Get out!"Zhao Song was furious. Chu Qiao stood frozen in place, her hands and feet trembling involuntarily. She straightened her back and continued in a low voice, "Zhao Song, I'll leave once I see you enter Zhenhuang. Even if you don't need me, there's still the princess. The journey is long and treacherous—I doubt you'd want what happened before to occur again to her."
At these words, Zhao Chun'er stiffened instantly. Zhao Song glanced back at her, then stubbornly insisted, "I will protect my sister. That's none of your concern."
"Thirteenth Brother..."
"Have you become so weak that you need protection from an enemy?" Just as Zhao Chun'er was about to speak, Zhao Song suddenly roared sharply. Zhao Chun'er cast a complicated look at Chu Qiao, then bit her lip lightly and fell silent.
Half an hour later, as Chu Qiao watched Zhao Song and Zhao Chun'er's carriage gradually disappear into the distant ancient road, exhaustion crashed over her like tidal waves. The cold rain throughout the night had left her feverish and barely able to stand. Yet when the morning sun finally pierced through the thick fog, she gritted her teeth, mounted her warhorse, and galloped forward in pursuit.
From that day on, she carefully patrolled around Zhao Song's carriage. Unable to plan their route for them, she could only clear the path ahead at night—scattering stray bandits and refugees when she encountered them, and deliberately revealing herself to lure away larger groups of bandits. During the day, she followed at a distance, secretly providing protection. Thanks to her horse's swiftness, she remained undetected.
But after four days of this, extreme fatigue and constant exposure to the elements finally caused her to collapse into serious illness.
When she awoke, it was still raining heavily outside. She lay in a dilapidated thatched pavilion, where Zhao Chun'er—wearing a straw raincoat—held a chipped bowl containing two pieces of dried rations.
"Eat. If you die, who will escort us back?"
The princess of the Zhao Clan looked down at her impassively, placed the bowl on the ground, then turned and left.
Muddy water had splashed across Chu Qiao's pale face, tracing a path like a startling scar. Watching Zhao Chun'er's figure gradually vanish into the rain, she felt an inexplicable warmth suddenly rise in her eyes for some reason.
Seven days later, the majestic ancient capital of Zhenhuang finally emerged faintly through the morning mist. This northern first capital of the Ximeng Continent, tempered by three hundred years of warfare, lay crouched like a slumbering lion upon the undulating Hongchuan plains. Gazing at this city where she had lived for eight years, Chu Qiao suddenly felt utterly weary and overwhelmed with emotion.
Turning her horse toward the northwest, she prepared to leave when the clip-clop of hoofbeats sounded behind her. Calmly, she turned to face the person before her, remaining silent.
"You're leaving?"
"Yes."
"Still returning to him?"
"Yes."
"Will you come back?"
"I don't know. Perhaps I will, perhaps not."
"Haha," Zhao Song suddenly laughed heartily, his single sleeve fluttering in the wind like a grotesque, half-winged kite. "See? I truly am a weak man!"
"Thirteenth," Chu Qiao said solemnly, "Thank you for coming to see me one last time."Zhao Song smiled bitterly, "You could travel thousands of miles to escort me, yet you think my heart is too narrow to come see you once?"
Yellow sand piled everywhere, scattered by the strong wind. Zhao Song wore ordinary coarse brown clothing, but it did nothing to diminish his royal nobility. His hair fluttered wildly in the wind as he spoke coldly, "But this time, it really will be the last. When we meet again, you need not show any mercy to me, and I won't hold back against you."
Chu Qiao slowly shook her head, "I won't kill you."
"That's your decision," Zhao Song said indifferently. "Anyone who betrays the empire is doomed to die."
Hearing this, Chu Qiao frowned and looked up, speaking each word deliberately, "Zhao Song, what is the empire?"
Zhao Song's brow furrowed as Chu Qiao continued in a low voice, "What is divine justice and royal law? Is it just your Zhao Clan's monopoly of power, where your words are gold and no one is allowed to resist? The battle at the capital was not a crime of war—there was no right or wrong, only victory and defeat! Back then, your father deceived his friend, slaughtered Yanbei, and killed all of Yan Xun's family. How should such hatred be reckoned? Over these eight years, how many assassinations and plots have you witnessed with your own eyes? How dare you righteously claim that Zhao Zhengde treated Yan Xun with great care and boundless kindness? The so-called marriage and wedding were nothing but a deception to blind the public. If we hadn't rebelled that night, we would have died at the hands of Ba Lei and Wei Shu Ye. What you would see today would only be two green graves and two mounds of yellow earth. Zhao Song, you've been deceiving yourself all along, thinking that by closing your eyes you wouldn't see the tyranny of Daxia, that by plugging your ears you wouldn't hear the cries of the people. Yet you never stop to think why a single small rebellion in the capital could cause the mighty Great Xia Dynasty to collapse. I don't deny that I have betrayed your trust and wronged you for your years of care. But when it comes to betraying the empire and starting this war, I feel no guilt, no regret whatsoever. We were opposed from the very beginning, with no possibility of reconciliation. Even if everything could start over, I would still make the same choices I have now."
Her resolute words scattered in the cold wind. Zhao Song laughed coldly, shaking his head with a sigh, "A Chu, I truly misjudged you."
"You didn't. You just never knew all of me," Chu Qiao said solemnly. "Zhao Song, living in this era is our tragedy. A drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring. Eight years ago, Yan Xun extended a helping hand to me when I was in desperate straits. The moment I decided to follow him into the Holy Gold Palace, our fates were destined to be opposed. You are a prince of Daxia, while I am determined to overthrow the Xia Dynasty. Sooner or later, we would clash on the battlefield. Everyone in the Great Xia Dynasty knows that Emperor Xia would never let Yan Xun go, yet you alone lived in ignorance as if nothing would happen. Over these eight years, I repeatedly hinted for you to distance yourself, but you refused to face reality, naively believing your father would spare this survivor from Yanbei. Zhao Song, I never intended to deceive you, and talk of betrayal is unfounded. However, I have indeed hurt you. I will always remember your years of care and kindness. If the opportunity arises someday, I will repay it.""It seems everything is my own fault for being too naive." Zhao Song gave a bitter smile and resolutely turned away: "I won't let you gain the ability to repay me, A Chu. Leave, I hope I never see you again in this lifetime."
"Zhao Song!" Chu Qiao suddenly called out loudly. Hearing her voice, Zhao Song's horse paused, but he didn't turn back.
After thinking for a long time, Chu Qiao took a deep breath before asking in a low voice: "How is Yan Xun?"
Zhao Song's back instantly stiffened. The cold wind blew, making his gaze grow even colder.
"Only when driven to the brink would he ever harm you! Only when gravely wounded and unable to govern would he ever allow those people to escort you! You wounded him—fatally, severely—didn't you?"
Though phrased as questions, there was no interrogative tone in her voice. Chu Qiao stated this with certainty, as a conclusion rather than a hypothesis.
"Yes!" Zhao Song stood with his back to Chu Qiao, his voice grim. "He doesn't have long to live, but you might still make it back in time for his funeral."
Suddenly, there was only heavy breathing behind him—urgent, suppressed. After a long while, a hoarse voice came from behind: "Thank you for telling me."
With that, crisp hoofbeats immediately sounded from behind. There was no time for farewells, or perhaps farewells were unnecessary. The woman on horseback anxiously turned her steed and galloped rapidly toward the northwest!
Though the person behind him had already departed, Zhao Song remained standing motionless in place. His horse restlessly pawed at the ground as the cold wind whipped through, causing the man's sleeves to flutter in the air, radiating profound sorrow and bitterness.
A Chu, every word you spoke was sharp and true—how could I be so naive as not to understand? For eight years, this fear has wrestled in my heart. Yet, I could never bring myself to let go of the chance to hold onto you. It wasn't that I didn't know, but that I refused to admit it, always believing that if I tried harder, I could keep you by my side. I've deluded myself so meticulously all these years, to the point where I almost believed the lies I wove. The empire is collapsing, the great edifice is falling—I kept speaking of Yan Xun's betrayal of Daxia, but what truly breaks my heart is that you have finally betrayed me!
Though, deep down, I had already guessed this would happen.
Narrow paths crossed, killing to save, escorting across thousands of miles without asking a single question—yet you knew everything, guessed everything, all because of that unwavering faith and unshakable trust in your heart! A Chu, I once thought that in your heart, my place and his were roughly equal, or if there was a difference, it couldn't be much. But only now do I realize how terribly mistaken I was.
Zhao Song looked up with a bitter smile, slowly closed his eyes, and reflected on his turbulent half-life—ultimately nothing but a mirage.
Suddenly, intense hoofbeats erupted. Zhao Song jerked his head up to see Zhao Chun'er and Zhao Che arriving together, followed by a large contingent of Daxia soldiers—over three hundred in total.
"Where is Chu Qiao?" Zhao Chun'er rode at the forefront, her expression sharp and fierce, having long shed her former naivety and fragility. Like a sharp dagger, she reined in her horse and demanded loudly: "Thirteenth Brother, where is she?"
"She's gone."
"Gone? How could you let her leave?" The Daxia princess raised her eyebrows sharply, her voice cutting: "Which way did she go?"
Seeing Zhao Song remain silent, Zhao Chun'er flared with anger, shouting: "Thirteenth Brother! Have you forgotten how they've ruined us?"
"Thirteenth Brother, which path did she take?"
Zhao Che, clad in black armor, glanced at Zhao Song's severed arm but asked no further questions, evidently having learned everything from Zhao Chun'er.In an instant, the memories of the past eight years surged through his mind like a massive tornado. He still remembered that day vividly—the girl in a white begonia-patterned cotton dress, white camel-hair boots, and two jade hairpins in her hair, smiling brightly as she said to him, "My name is Zixu, and I live in Wuyou Courtyard. I'm a little maid under Aunt Dou, and my daily task is to make clay figures for the young masters and ladies to play with. You must remember that!"
Zhao Chun'er raised an eyebrow sharply and scolded harshly, "Zhao Song! Are you still a man of the Zhao family or not?"
"Over there," Zhao Song raised his hand, pointing in the direction Chu Qiao had gone. As soon as he spoke, three hundred horsemen galloped away, leaving behind only a cloud of swirling dust in their wake.
A Chu, between you and me, it was always nothing but an illusion. Our positions were different from the start, making it impossible for us to stand side by side. You risked everything to send me home, yet I cannot let you go. Zixu Wuyou, Zixu Wuyou—a casual remark from back then has now come true like a prophecy.
The lonely wind whirled, and the world seemed desolate. Zhao Song rode forward, heading slowly toward the ancient city of Zhenhuang, his solitary figure casting a long, slanting shadow.
**
"Seventh Prince, there's no sign of her ahead."
The scout galloped back swiftly. Zhao Che's face was dark, but before he could speak, Zhao Chun'er interjected, "Her horse is fast. Immediately dispatch ten squads to pursue her. No matter how skilled she is, a woman traveling alone will need to eat and drink. Sooner or later, we'll catch up to her. Also, send a carrier pigeon at once to notify the prefectures and counties along the route. Tell them that Chu Qiao of Yanbei, who previously killed many of their allied troops, is here. She has no army with her and is alone. I believe there are far more people in this world who despise her to the bone than just me. Many will be willing to act on our behalf. With a net cast far and wide, I want to see how she plans to return to Yanbei alone."
Zhao Che raised an eyebrow slightly and turned to look at his younger sister, frowning as he asked, "Chun'er, did something happen to you on the road?"
Zhao Chun'er was taken aback, looking up nervously. "Why do you ask, Seventh Brother?"
"You've changed a lot."
Zhao Chun'er's eyes grew deep and shadowy, the filthy scenes replaying in her mind once more. The young woman smiled coldly and said, "Seventh Brother, I haven't changed. I've just grown up."
"Hyah!"
Zhao Chun'er shouted sharply, urging her horse forward. Zhao Che and the soldiers quickly followed, guarding her from behind.
A long time later, amid a patch of grass by the roadside, a petite figure suddenly stood up. Gazing in the direction where Zhao Chun'er had disappeared, a wave of bitterness spread through her heart.
Just as she had suspected, Zhao Song had indeed betrayed her. She had deliberately chosen a circuitous route back to Yanbei. If Zhao Song hadn't revealed it, Zhao Che and the others would surely have pursued her down another path.
As for Zhao Chun'er, she had remained quiet and reserved the entire journey, never showing any hostility. She had even subtly guided Chu Qiao to Zhenhuang, all to ensure her own safe return to the capital before eliminating her without mercy.
This princess of Daxia had long been determined to kill her!
Standing alone in the vast, empty wilderness, a lone eagle cried sharply in the sky, its wings as white as the snow eagles of the Tianshan Mountains.
Chu Qiao curled her fingers and let out a sharp whistle. From far away, a pitch-black warhorse galloped swiftly toward her, soon reaching her side and circling her happily.Chu Qiao swung onto the horse’s back and chuckled calmly, “Brother, we’ll have to take a detour. The roads ahead are all blocked.”
From Zhenhuang to Yanbei stretched a vast, flat plain. Initially, to prevent the Southwest Garrison Commander from escaping, officials in several major prefectures and fiefdoms along the route had ordered the wild grass cut down, trees felled, and all dense forests that could provide cover cleared away. Every river, ferry crossing, and post road was guarded by specialized personnel. They had assumed Chu Qiao would only dare to sneak away covertly, never expecting her to lead the Southwest Garrison Commander in a series of fierce battles, inflicting heavy casualties and rendering their earlier preparations futile.
But now, those very preparations were proving immensely useful. Having suffered significant losses at her hands, these officials, upon learning that she was attempting to cross a thousand li of encirclement alone to return to Yanbei, would undoubtedly keep their eyes wide open, waiting for her to walk right into their trap. At this moment, capturing her would clearly serve as a leverage against Yanbei’s new king and deal a substantial blow to the fledgling Yanbei regime. After all, Chu Qiao’s record of leading four thousand troops through a thousand-li campaign without a single defeat was enough to instill fear and caution among these noble families.
If she were to return by the original route now, it would be tantamount to seeking her own destruction, with no hope of escape.
The only viable path now was to head southeast, enter Biantang territory, proceed south along the Qingtong Mountain trail, turn into the Southern Border’s Wuxun River, follow its current upstream, and finally return to Yanbei!
The horse nudged her leg vigorously with its neck. Chu Qiao smiled, her voice brimming with immense confidence. She tightened the reins, gave a light shout, and galloped toward the east.
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