The Road to Glory

Chapter 257: "I've Come to Fulfill Our Agreement, to Bring You Back to Da..."

That stubbornly sustained energy dissipated, and once Wen Yu collapsed, she remained ill for several days.

After examining her, the imperial physician said it was due to overexertion and mental strain over recent days, which had worn out her body and caused deficiency in both qi and blood. She needed careful, gentle recuperation.

Zhao Bai no longer dared to let Wen Yu overwork herself. After discussing with the accompanying ministers, trivial matters were all delegated to them, allowing Wen Yu to rest and recuperate first.

However, the war was not yet completely over, so how could Wen Yu truly rest? After drifting in and out of sleep for several days, once her spirits improved slightly, the first things she asked about were Mu Youliang's injuries, He Yi's whereabouts, and the battle situation at Tiger Gorge Pass.

The cold rain of late autumn pattered softly outside the window.

Zhao Bai fetched a soft pillow to prop behind Wen Yu's back and fed her spoonfuls of medicinal broth from the bowl, saying, "The imperial physician personally examined him. General Mu's injuries are severe, but he is no longer in critical condition. There's no need for you to worry."

"As for He Yi, after retreating that day, she continued wandering around Panshi City with her remaining ten thousand or so soldiers. It seems she's unwilling to return to Western Mausoleum just like that. During this time, she has harassed the city walls a few times, but they're just a disorganized rabble now, no longer a significant threat."

The medicine was a bit hot, so Zhao Bai stirred it with the spoon and continued, "Yesterday, we received a letter from Lord Li Xun. He and Lord Chen Wei are leading reinforcements and are already on their way. They will arrive in Panshi City in a few days. The generals in the city, upon hearing the news, are already discussing plans to leave the city and clear out the remaining Western Mausoleum forces."

She paused here, her tone somewhat puzzled, "That Western Mausoleum barbarian woman refused to return earlier, firstly because she wasn't completely cornered yet, and secondly because she had fifty thousand troops under her command. Without provisions, she couldn't take all fifty thousand back. Now that she's been defeated, she only has about ten thousand soldiers left, and they've started killing horses and boiling grass roots and tree bark for food. Instead of taking advantage of our reinforcements not having arrived yet to flee back to Western Mausoleum, she keeps loitering around Panshi City. What is she planning?"

After drinking the spoonful of medicine Zhao Bai fed her, a cold breeze blew in through the window, causing an itch in Wen Yu's throat. She couldn't help but cover her mouth and suppress a cough.

Seeing this, Zhao Bai quickly stood up to close the window.

By the time she returned to the bedside, Wen Yu had stopped coughing. Being ill, she hadn't tied up her hair, letting it cascade down like satin. This made her face appear even paler, with little color in her lips, though a faint flush had spread from her earlier coughing fit.

She said slowly, "A Zhao, have you heard the story of the Conqueror's suicide at the Wu River?"

It was mealtime, but the cooking smoke was sparse in the Western Mausoleum temporary camp.

The soldiers sat together in small groups, holding chipped clay bowls scavenged from farmers' homes, filled with boiled grass roots and tree bark that had turned brown.

The soldiers on duty could barely stand straight, their steps unsteady, cheeks sunken from hunger, faces ashen gray, practically leaning on their spears to maintain balance.

A similarly disheveled personal guard entered the tent carrying a bowl of meat broth, forcing a smile: "Princess, the soldiers hunted quite a few birds today. The broth made from them is very fresh. Please try some."

In the center of the military tent was a long table covered with several maps. He Yi, holding a charcoal pencil, was bent over the maps, continuously marking them.She still wore the bloodstained armor from that day, with even the dried, brownish blood clots on her braids left uncleaned. Her pale lips were chapped and peeling, and without looking up, she coldly snapped, "Take it away."

Ever since the defeat in battle that day, she had shut herself in her tent, studying these military maps without rest.

The guard, seeing her in such a state, felt a deep ache in his heart. Fighting back tears, he pleaded, "Princess, you haven't eaten for two days. Please, have at least a little..."

As he spoke, he moved to place the bowl of meat broth on the small table where He Yi had spread out her maps. Unexpectedly, He Yi suddenly erupted, violently swatting the bowl to the ground. "I said take it away!"

The yak-wool carpet prevented the earthenware bowl from shattering, but the broth spilled everywhere.

He Yi lifted her head, her eyes bloodshot, her entire being radiating fury. "Don't bother me!"

The guard dared not utter another word, trembling as he knelt. While carefully scooping the spilled broth back into the bowl with his hands, he bowed his head, and what seemed like tears swiftly fell onto the yak-wool carpet.

"Princess—"

Just then, Balu, the only capable general still under He Yi's command, hurried into the tent and witnessed this scene, momentarily falling silent.

Knowing Balu must have urgent matters to discuss with He Yi, the guard suppressed his sobs, quickly tidied up, and retreated with the half-filled bowl of broth.

He Yi closed her eyes, seeming both ashamed and exhausted. "What is it?"

Balu was well aware of their army's dire straits—they had neither provisions nor reinforcements. Taking Pan-Shi City now seemed as impossible as reaching for the moon. Yet He Yi refused to withdraw to Western Mausoleum. The soldiers subsisted on roots and tree bark daily; morale was low, and even before winter, many had fallen ill.

He knelt, fist pressed to his chest, and spoke with difficulty, "Princess, let us... withdraw to Western Mausoleum!"

He Yi, who had kept her eyes shut, now opened them, revealing their bloodshot intensity.

Balu knew the implications of his words and lowered his kneeling form further, pleading sorrowfully, "Today, while leading troops outside, I encountered Scouts from Pan-Shi City. After capturing and interrogating one, I learned that reinforcements from Liang are nearing the city. If we don't withdraw now, once those reinforcements arrive, all hope of returning to Western Mausoleum will be lost..."

"Balu." He Yi's voice was hoarse from disuse, yet her authoritative tone remained. She stared at her trusted general kneeling below, her jaw tight. "You disappoint me greatly."

Balu felt the sting of shame, knowing He Yi couldn't accept the failure of this eastern campaign. He continued to persuade her, "Princess, in war, one cannot judge victory or defeat by a single battle. The Central Plains people have an old saying: 'As long as the green hills remain, there will be no shortage of firewood.'..."

"You think I will lose?" A cold smile twisted He Yi's pale, ashen face. She abruptly swept the maps she had been meticulously marking toward Balu, as if desperately trying to prove something, and sharply declared:

"Your elder brother leads thirty thousand troops to attack Tiger Gorge Pass. News of victory will reach our camp in mere days. Once the western gateway to Liang is breached, how long can morale in Pan-Shi City hold? No matter how many reinforcements Liang sends, learning their homeland is under attack will scatter them like dust!"

The stack of maps brushed past Balu's face and landed beside his knees. He bowed his head, eyes closed, and remained silent.No news had come from Tiger Gorge Pass, far exceeding the normal timeframe for battlefield reports. Her brother Niru was the most meticulous—he would never neglect such communications. Everyone understood what this meant, yet at this critical juncture, no one dared voice it aloud.

Her silence seemed to further enrage He Yi. She kicked over a low table, eyes blazing as she roared: "The Sixteen Tribes of the Great Desert are merely a disorderly mob! Do you truly believe they can besiege the royal city?"

"Wait until my forty thousand troops return to the capital—then watch them scatter like frightened rats!"

Whether trying to convince herself or Balu, after this outburst she collapsed back into the tiger-skin draped chair. Gripping the jade seal once presented by Pei Song, her knuckles turned white: "We only need to hold out against Han Yang. Whether victory comes from Tiger Gorge Pass or the royal city, Han Yang will be the ultimate loser!"

"Until then, anyone who undermines morale shall be executed!"

He Yi's gaze at Balu turned murderous: "Considering this is General Balu's first offense, he shall receive thirty military cane strikes as warning."

Three days later, when Liang reinforcements arrived at Panshi City, He Yi still hadn't received the anticipated victory report from Tiger Gorge Pass.

Using intelligence gathered by the city's defenders, the Liang army quickly began large-scale purges of Western Mausoleum forces within the territory. After several battles, He Yi suffered consecutive defeats, eventually forced to retreat to Gole City with remaining troops. There, she nearly succumbed to illness.

Chen Wei besieged Gole City. Knowing the city had exhausted its food supplies days ago, he avoided direct assaults. Instead, his troops daily cooked meat soups outside the walls, both taunting and urging surrender.

The defending Western Mausoleum soldiers, having nearly exhausted their warhorses, could only butcher the remaining steeds. Each horse had to provide meat for the entire army to cook with roots and tree bark for a full day. Consequently, their bowls contained only bitter broth from boiled roots and bark, completely devoid of meat.

The tormenting aroma of meat from below the walls drove many soldiers to suicide or attempted surrender—though the latter were immediately beheaded by commanders.

When generals reported the desperate situation at the walls to He Yi, she was already unconscious from illness.

With no medicine left in the army, an elderly monk who knew herbalism selected usable roots and bark collected by soldiers. He brewed them into a medicinal broth for He Yi, who finally regained consciousness that night.

When the monk returned with more medicine, General Balu and other commanders blocked his path with ashen faces. Bowing their heads in shame, they pleaded: "Venerable One, the princess respects you deeply. Given the current situation... remaining in Chen territory only sends our soldiers to meaningless deaths. Could you... persuade the princess..."

The door creaked open as the elderly monk entered. Candlelight from the bedside cast elongated shadows of a golden armlet left on the stool.

He Yi had grown noticeably thinner—the armlet now too loose had been removed by her maid.

Awake and possibly having overheard the generals' pleas, she showed no reaction to the monk's entry. In the dim candlelight, she stared transfixed at a spider spinning its web by the window.

The monk sighed softly: "Princess, it's time for your medicine."The window lattice wasn't fully closed. Outside, a drizzling rain fell as a cold wind invaded the room, scattering the spiderweb that the spider had painstakingly anchored at one end. The spider, clinging to its thread as fine as a string, trembled in the cold wind as it diligently began to reweave its web.

He Yi continued to watch intently, asking the old monk, "Your Reverence also believes I should withdraw the troops, don't you?"

The old monk followed He Yi's gaze to the spider at the window lattice. Just then, another strong gust of cold wind blew in, destroying most of the web the spider had just repaired. The tiny spider still clung to its delicate thread, tirelessly mending the web again.

The old monk sighed. "What traps the spider is not the rain outside, nor the web itself, but the spider's unwillingness to abandon that web."

He Yi laughed, her expression deeply sarcastic. When she turned her face away, a glimmer of tears shone in her eyes. "They say monks do not speak falsehoods, but Your Reverence has lied for me too, haven't you?

"I was never conceived by some golden leopard entering my mother's dream. My father was the previous king of Western Mausoleum."

The old monk closed his eyes.

As He Yi spoke of this royal secret that had become taboo in Western Mausoleum, her eyes held needle-sharp pain. "My uncle—the current king of Western Mausoleum—cannot tolerate me precisely because of this."

The late queen of Western Mausoleum was renowned as the greatest beauty among all the desert tribes. Even before being chosen as the late king's consort, she and He Yi's father had been deeply in love.

However, a palace coup followed. The previous king was killed, and his younger brother ascended the throne as the new king of Western Mausoleum. Since He Yi's maternal family held significant power, to win them over, the new king poisoned his own wife, announcing her death from illness, and sought to make He Yi's mother his new queen.

By then, He Yi's mother was already pregnant with her. To protect He Yi, she claimed that a golden leopard had entered her dream and impregnated her.

When the old monk later rescued He Yi, to preserve this innocent life that seemed to carry heaven's mandate, he tacitly endorsed that lie.

Over the years, this past event had become a forbidden topic among all who knew of it.

"I killed all my uncle's adult sons. As for those who are still minors... I couldn't bring myself to do it, and my mother would no longer permit it." Moisture traced down He Yi's temples as she continued to laugh, though her voice had grown hoarse. "Because they are also my mother's sons.

"Your Reverence, it's not that the spider refuses to avoid this storm, nor that it cannot bear to abandon its web. Rather... it has nowhere left to hide, and nothing left to relinquish."

She had mobilized the entire strength of Western Mausoleum to attack the Liang and Chen kingdoms. Now, after repeated defeats, countless young men had died in foreign lands, yet they had failed to breach the Central Plains' defenses. Instead, the royal city found itself besieged.

Unless victory came from Tiger Gorge Pass, this nationwide campaign would become a mockery.

She had no face left to return to Western Mausoleum.

The cold rain and mournful wind persisted. When the repaired spiderweb was torn apart once more by the wind, the spider clinging to it was swept away along with the gust.

In the flickering candlelight of the room, the old monk compassionately chanted a Buddhist invocation.

He Yi's illness worsened. With few medicines available in the city and only horse meat broth as supplemental nourishment, coupled with her profound despair, her body grew weaker by the day during her sickness. When the Liang army launched a massive assault outside the city walls, He Yi was so ill she could not even rise from her bed.The demoralized remnants of the Western Mausoleum forces could no longer withstand the Liang army's unstoppable advance. When news of the breached city gates arrived, the imperial guards rushed frantically into her chamber, lifted the ailing He Yi from her sickbed, draped a cloak over her shoulders, and hurried her away. "Princess, the eastern gate has fallen! The Liang troops have broken through! We must escort you out of the city immediately!"

Supported by her guards, He Yi stumbled out of the room. Lifting her feverish eyes, she scanned the barracks—everywhere she looked, soldiers were discarding armor and fleeing in disarray.

The chaos surrounding her seemed distant, the noises blurring in her ears until she felt like an outsider watching a shadow puppet show. "Princess? Princess?" Noticing her dazed state, a guard shook her shoulders firmly, choking back tears. "You must stay strong! Once we return to the Western Mausoleum, to the banks of the Yisong River, we will reclaim the Central Plains and avenge this humiliation!"

Jolted back to awareness, He Yi turned her pale face toward the guard and murmured weakly, "Back to the Yisong River..." The words seemed to ignite a spark within her. Suddenly breaking free from the guard's support, she scanned the surroundings and demanded, "Where is the High Priest?"

When no one answered, she pushed through the crowd and stumbled back the way they came. The guards cried out "Princess!" and hurried after her.

They found her at the old monk's quarters, one hand braced against the doorframe, frozen like a statue. Sensing something amiss, the guards rushed forward and saw the High Priest still seated cross-legged on his bed, clad in his ocher monastic robes, his expression serene.

A guard ventured inside and checked the monk's breath before crying out in despair, "The High Priest... he attained nirvana long ago."

Some guards broke down weeping while others turned helplessly to He Yi for guidance.

As if deaf to the lamentations, He Yi floated into the room on unsteady feet and called softly, "High Priest?"

Only silence answered. Her eyes reddened but shed no tears as she knelt before the bed. When she reached out to touch him, the ocher robes concealed rigid limbs. As she bowed her head, tears finally welled in her eyes, tracing paths across her nose before falling. "High Priest?" she choked out again.

Many guards turned away to wipe their tears, but knowing the urgency of their situation, they urged through their grief, "Princess, the High Priest has passed. This is no time for mourning. Please restrain your sorrow—we must leave the city now!"

He Yi slowly closed her eyes, the tear tracks still glistening on her nose. "Bring oil," she rasped hoarsely.

With the city fallen and Liang troops advancing, she could no longer give the High Priest a proper burial.

The guards swiftly drenched the courtyard with oil.

He Yi herself threw the torch. Flames erupted instantly, sparks flying wildly. Embers carried by the oil landed on her hand, searing pain shooting through her as she watched the inferno blaze, tears streaming uncontrollably.

The guards pulled her away, comforting her, "Don't lose heart, Princess! We'll be safe once we reach the desert!"

Escape?

He Yi leaned limply on her guards, the wind stirring blood-caked strands of hair on her forehead. She gazed at the road ahead, the fiery ambition in her eyes extinguished, replaced only by boundless desolation and exhaustion.

Where could they possibly escape to now?With the Liang army in relentless pursuit behind them, they could no longer escape into the desert.

The group fled in disarray to the western gate, where the personal guards escorting He Yi in her escape all came to an abrupt halt.

—Another army had emerged from the desert ahead, its glaring crimson banners bearing the character "Liang" fluttering in the wind like blood-soaked executioner's blades.

The surviving Western Mausoleum soldiers trailing behind cried out in despair, "How can there be Liang troops in the western desert too?"

At the forefront of the military formation, a figure high atop a horse drew back his bowstring. Against the sunlight, his face was indistinct, but the sheer force and curve of the fully drawn three-stone great bow were enough to strike terror into hearts.

The guards trembled as they raised their shields, forming a protective circle around He Yi.

With a sharp "swish," the arrow left the bowstring, the vibrating twang lingering in the air.

The long arrow, whistling through the wind, embedded itself deep into the cracks of Gole City's battle-scarred walls. Impaled upon it was an oval object wrapped in black cloth.

A soldier mustered his courage to unwrap the black cloth, and when a bloody head rolled out, the remaining Western Mausoleum troops cried out in horror, "It's... it's the envoy!"

"Swish!" Another long arrow, also bearing a black cloth bundle, struck the city wall.

The soldiers below unwrapped it, and their weeping intensified, "It's General Chiti, who led the troops to reinforce the royal city!"

"Was the reinforcement army ambushed and slaughtered too?"

"Swish! Swish!" Several more arrows pierced the wall.

As the Western Mausoleum soldiers untied the black cloth bundles, their knees buckled, and they fell to the ground, wailing, "It's... it's the heads of General Niru and General Nugeer..."

Despair surged over them like relentless tides, and weeping filled the air.

Though she had long anticipated the unfavorable turn of events at Tiger Gorge Pass, witnessing the gruesome, bloodied heads laid before her now left He Yi feeling utterly drained. The world seemed to spin before her eyes.

The last shred of will that had sustained her until this moment finally vanished. She had been utterly defeated.

All around, weeping echoed—from her personal guards, her trusted generals, and the hopeless common soldiers.

Amid the chaos, He Yi lifted her gaze toward the boundless desert ahead, only to have her view blocked by an unyielding wall of black iron stretching across the sands.

That wall loomed taller than any fortress or ravine she had ever encountered.

The sun overhead seemed to fade into a pale, glowing shadow, casting no warmth. Her chest felt like a shattered ice cavern, exhaling frigid air.

She continued to gaze westward, but she could no longer see the dunes that belonged to Western Mausoleum, nor catch the scent of the wind blowing from the banks of the Yisong River.

Behind them, the sound of frantic hoofbeats approached. Soldiers turned in panic to see the Liang troops who had breached the eastern gate closing in.

A Liang general shouted from horseback in the distance, "Lay down your weapons! Those who surrender will be spared!"

The outcome of this battle was already decided; there was no need for further bloodshed.

A soldier whispered fearfully, "Should we surrender?"

But his voice was too soft, carried away by the wind.

Balu, who had been weeping hoarsely over his elder brother's head, cut a piece from his own robe and carefully rewrapped the mangled head, trampled by horses' hooves, tying it to his chest. His eyes were bloodshot with rage and hatred as he declared, "Warriors of Western Mausoleum fight to the end—we do not surrender!"Some soldiers, like him, had bloodshot eyes and gripped their war blades tightly, but more of the lower-ranking soldiers—emaciated, with sallow, gaunt faces—showed expressions of fear, terror, and sorrow.

He Yi reached out and placed a hand on Ba Lu's shoulder, stopping him from speaking further.

Her gaze swept slowly over the haggard faces of the lower-ranking soldiers, and in that moment, she finally admitted to herself that her ambition had brought them harm.

Pale-faced, she said, "He Yi... has failed you all."

Still immersed in grief, Balu seemed to understand something upon hearing He Yi's words and urgently called out, "Princess..."

He Yi merely glanced at him before her sorrowful gaze swept over the others. "You... return to the Yisong River on my behalf..."

The mistakes she alone had made should not require the soldiers beneath her to pointlessly sacrifice their lives alongside her.

Yet as the princess of Western Mausoleum, she naturally possessed her own pride.

Tears welling in her eyes, He Yi earnestly looked upon the face of every Western Mausoleum soldier who had fought alongside her until now, before casting one final glance toward the direction of Western Mausoleum in the twilight.

The Yisong River—their mother river. Next year, its banks would still be lush with dense blossoms and emerald grasses...

She had pursued her ambitions to this distant land, far from that soil, ultimately never to return.

When the notched battle blade left its sheath, all Western Mausoleum soldiers beneath Gole City's gates wept uncontrollably: "Princess!"

Blood splattered across the desert, burying the pride and ambitions of that Western Mausoleum princess's half-life here.

The western wind howled fiercely, the hundred grasses bleak and withered.

By the time Wen Yu's carriage appeared outside Gole City's eastern gate, the Liang banner had already been replanted atop the city walls.

Led by Balu, a group of Western Mausoleum generals knelt bound hand and foot before the city gate, with Chen Wei and others commanding rows of soldiers behind them.

As Wen Yu stepped out of the carriage supported by Zhao Bai's hand, all present bowed: "We pay respects to the Princess!"

Chen Wei stepped forward with cupped fists: "Your subject—has fulfilled the mission without dishonor. The remaining Western Mausoleum forces within our borders have all surrendered, save for that Western Mausoleum savage woman... who chose to take her own life."

An attendant junior officer stepped forward holding a wooden box. A nearby Azure Guard received it, opening it with a slightly altered expression before presenting it to Wen Yu for inspection.

The strategists accompanying Wen Yu who stood close enough to see the bloody contents within the box gasped softly and averted their eyes.

Wen Yu gazed calmly for a moment before waving for the Azure Guard to remove it, instructing: "Sew it back onto her corpse, prepare a proper coffin, and send it back to Western Mausoleum."

Hearing this, Balu—forced to kneel at the front—lifted his red, swollen eyes and sneered in broken Central Plains tongue: "Hyp... hypocritical posturing! False courtesy!"

Almost before his words faded, an armored soldier behind him kicked his back heavily, slamming him face-down to the ground.

The accompanying strategists also erupted in anger: "This barbarian prisoner shows such ingratitude, daring to disrespect the Princess? What use is keeping him alive?"

Pressed face-first against the ground, Balu's entire face flushed crimson from struggling, the whites of his eyes stained red with blood vessels as he rasped: "Kill me if you will, what fear has a Western Mausoleum man of death?"

Zhao Bai's eyes turned stern and cold, his long sword ringing as it left its scabbard, only to be stopped by Wen Yu's raised hand.

The fur trim on her cloak stirred in the cold wind, the dark cloak resembling a silent mountain that accentuated her countenance—pure as Tianshan snow: "What about a defeated general could possibly warrant posturing from this Princess?"

That lightly spoken sentence rendered Balu speechless, his face filled with shame and fury.

Wen Yu calmly looked down upon him: "This Princess simply disdains venting the conflict between two nations upon the corpse of an enemy commander. As for your anger and hatred..."Her expression remained gentle and serene, yet tinged with a hint of aloofness: "...It is utterly unreasonable. It was your Western Mausoleum that invaded our territory and oppressed our people. How much innocent blood of our Chen citizens stained your blades as you rode eastward? How many loyal bones of our Central Plains warriors lie buried in these vast yellow sands after your nation's full-scale invasion?"

"These blood debts, one by one, shall be reclaimed by this princess from your Western Mausoleum." The setting sun hung high behind her, and in her phoenix-like imperious eyes, there seemed to seep a cold, sharp intensity.

The civil officials behind her also cursed: "What right do surrendered prisoners of war have to bark arrogantly?"

Shame and agony twisted on Balu's face. Half his face pressed against the sandy ground was marked by coarse gravel. Heyi's words echoing in his ears, urging them to return to the Yisong River, he gritted his teeth as tears rolled from his eyes, quickly absorbed by the sand.

Chen Wei made a gesture, and the soldiers below promptly escorted all the Western Mausoleum prisoners away.

Only then did he quickly step forward and say: "Your subject still has—"

Wen Yu raised her hand to stop Chen Wei from continuing. Her health had not yet fully recovered. Upon receiving news that Chen Wei had begun the assault on Gole City, she had rushed from Panshi City, enduring the journey's hardships. Persisting until now was her limit. Despite her makeup, her pallor was unmistakable as she said:

"All matters in the city can be arranged gradually. First, mobilize every soldier you can and proceed immediately to the Western Mausoleum royal city to reinforce the Sixteen Tribes. Heyi has dispatched forty thousand troops back to defend the royal city. Without reinforcements, the Sixteen Tribes will likely be overwhelmed..."

But Chen Wei smiled and said: "What your subject wished to report to Your Highness is precisely this—there is no longer any need to send troops to aid the Sixteen Tribes!"

A rare look of astonishment surfaced on Wen Yu's face.

From behind the crowded black-armored soldiers at the city gate came Fan Yuan's booming voice: "Your Highness! Great victory at Tiger Gorge Pass! The reinforcements Western Mausoleum sent back to their royal city have also been intercepted by us!"

Not only Wen Yu, but all the accompanying officials were first stunned, then overjoyed when they saw the black-armored soldiers part to let Fan Yuan and his group emerge from behind the city gate.

Li Xun was so excited he nearly stammered: "Old Fan?"

But Wen Yu's gaze immediately caught on another figure walking out alongside Fan Yuan.

He had grown thinner and darker, his features sharper than before, yet he carried a new steadiness capable of weathering Mount Tai's collapse. Just looking at him brought a sense of reassurance.

Wen Yu felt her eyes grow hot and sore, an uncontrollable sting spreading through them.

Fan Yuan, unaware of Wen Yu's unusual state, continued jubilantly: "Thanks to Xiao Jun's tremendous assistance, Tiger Gorge Pass was held. Intercepting Western Mausoleum's forty thousand barbarian reinforcements was entirely due to Xiao Jun charging wounded into the enemy ranks to capture their commander..."

No one was listening to him anymore.

Xiao Li stepped closer, his damaged armor bearing the trials and killing intent of the battlefield. A faint redness tinged the rims of his eyes as he looked at Wen Yu—his gaze fierce yet weighted, as if fearing that should he have arrived a moment later, everything before him would prove illusory.

"I've come to fulfill our agreement—to take you back to Daliang."