Tigers Sniff the Rose

Not long after nightfall, chaos erupted in the camp led by the Uman King. Shouts in various languages came from all directions—

"The Great Wei army is attacking!"

"Get up, stop sleeping! Our camp is under attack by the Great Wei army!"

However, three consecutive days of harassment had left the soldiers of the envoy camp disinterested. Over the past few days, the Wei forces had been launching raids but with extremely weak numbers, causing little real impact.

Moreover, tonight the Uman King had led a large force to assault the Wei army. If the Uman King won, the losses in the camp would be insignificant.

The soldiers grumbled and cursed, sluggishly and half-heartedly picking up their weapons to face the enemy. But once outside, they found fires blazing in all directions and shadowy figures darting chaotically through the camp. Upon encounter, the Wei troops—unlike the previous two days when they had avoided confrontation—directly engaged in fierce combat!

The camp’s soldiers snapped to attention, realizing that this time the Wei army was launching a full-scale assault!

Voices in various languages erupted in confusion: "They’re after the provisions! Don’t let them seize them!"

"Hurry, it’s really the Wei army! Brothers, let’s make sure they don’t return alive!"

The jumble of languages made communication nearly impossible. Suddenly, a general climbed to a high point and let out a long cry, capturing the attention of the camp’s soldiers. Against the pitch-black sky, a flag was planted on the watchtower, waving in changing sequences. As the flag continued to wave, the camp under the Uman King’s command regained order and began organizing to counter the Wei army.

The general strained to wave the flag himself, managing to rally the scattered troops into formation. As he wiped his sweat, he suddenly sensed danger. Turning back, he saw, in the biting night wind, a cold arrow cutting through the mist, aimed directly at him on the tower!

The foreign general, horrified, leaped aside, dropping the flag, and shouted loudly, "The Wei army’s mounted archers are here too! We must not let our guard down!"

Meanwhile, in the Wei ranks, Yan Shang lowered his bow.

A soldier beside him remarked with regret, "If this were a real battlefield, that arrow of yours would have killed someone just now."

Yan Shang shook his head with a smile. "If it were a real battlefield, I wouldn’t have taken such a risk. But for the enemy to learn flag signals so quickly, using them to overcome their language barriers—it must be the Uman King’s idea.

"Even absent from the camp, he’s managed to rally his troops this fast. He’s only been training them for less than a month. Truly impressive."

In the darkness, Han Shu Xing stayed close by his side. When enemy soldiers charged to attack the archers, Han Shu Xing protected Yan Shang almost inseparably. As they moved through the camp, Han Shu Xing followed Yan Shang step by step.

Because Han Shu Xing had been specially chosen by Mu Wan Yao and was originally from the Black Barbarians, he didn’t stand out in this camp. When someone noticed him with Yan Shang and expressed surprise that he didn’t seem to be from the Great Wei army, Han Shu Xing would strike first—knocking them unconscious or forcing them to surrender before they could react.

Those who surrendered often exclaimed in astonishment, "Who are you? You’re not from Great Wei. Why are you helping their army? Has our side produced a traitor?"

Han Shu Xing, tall and burly with a fierce scar running across half his face, ignored the enemy’s cries and remained steadfast behind Yan Shang.

Yan Shang said, "It’s time for you to act."

Han Shu Xing clasped his fists. "Take care, my lord."After speaking, he turned without hesitation, his position immediately filled by other Great Wei soldiers. Meanwhile, Han Shu Xing, leveraging his foreign appearance, infiltrated the enemy camp with ease.

Han Shu Xing’s build resembled Meng Zaishi’s, and in the pitch-black night battle, the enemy forces lacked an overall commander. Seizing a general, Han Shu Xing sharply spoke in the Black Barbarians’ tongue: “Forget the provisions! The enemy is attacking from the east—we must head east to engage them.”

The captured general exclaimed in surprise, “Uman King? Weren’t you supposed to be ambushing the Wei army?”

Exploiting the general’s unfamiliarity with the Uman King, Han Shu Xing impersonated the ruler and deliberately spoke in halting Great Wei language: “If my movements were known to all, there would be no need for me to command this battle.”

The captured general obeyed without question and immediately carried out Han Shu Xing’s orders.

Han Shu Xing then penetrated deeper into the camp, spreading rumors everywhere.

The army led by the Uman King, though not weak in strength, was thrown into chaos in the dead of night. Deep within the camp, the tents storing provisions were set ablaze, thick flames raging as they valiantly clashed head-on with the Wei army.

Because the Uman King had said not to worry about the provisions!

As long as they held the camp, the main force would soon come to reinforce them!—

Drums beat intensely, horns blared powerfully.

Horses galloped, kicking up clouds of dust. The thunderous drumbeats stirred the soldiers’ spirits. After assessing the Wei army’s strength, the Uman King led a massive force in a night assault without hesitation.

Night was unfavorable for battle.

Yet precisely because it was unfavorable, it became an advantage.

The Uman King arranged his cavalry, drew his long blade, and pointed it toward the Wei army’s camp behind the city tower. His heroic aura inspired all: “Men, charge with me—”

The army under the Uman King was unstoppable. Whether it was the trenches dug by the Wei army before their hastily erected towers or the increasingly heightened fortifications, the enemy forces destroyed them all. Using every tool at their disposal—iron chains, spikes, spurs—they advanced relentlessly, forcing the Wei army to retreat again and again.

Enemy cavalry breached the city walls. The Wei army resisted several times but were pushed back each time. The forces led by Meng Zaishi were simply too formidable, their tactics too refined. Many Wei soldiers were terrified just by the sight of the enemy’s ferocious faces.

By the time Meng Zaishi’s cavalry crossed the first trench, the Wei army’s horsemen were still hastily forming ranks. But the enemy’s assault was too swift—the cavalry could not complete their formation, leaving only the infantry to engage.

Yet on open plains, cavalry reigned supreme.

Distances of ten or a hundred li meant nothing to cavalry. On the battlefield, in the era of cold steel, cavalry were the undisputed kings.

However, cavalry charges required formation and distance. Without distance, they could not gain momentum.

Now, the Wei army found themselves in this exact predicament, forced upon them by the Uman King’s rapid advance—he had come too quickly.

They had just received the news and begun to form up when the enemy cavalry was already upon them. At such speed, the Wei army had no time to deploy their cavalry and could only send infantry and archers to face the enemy’s horsemen.

In the darkness, the archers’ effectiveness was severely limited.

The infantry crumbled rapidly under the cavalry’s assault.

The Wei army was in grave peril!Several generals remained at the camp, their faces ashen as urgent battle reports continuously poured in from outside. Although the central command had originally ordered them to lose, and though they were here to buy time for Yan Shang... suffering such a swift defeat remained a heavy blow.

Losing so easily, without even putting up a decent resistance—would the central command blame them?

As the generals were discussing, the tent flap was suddenly thrown open, and a young man's voice rang out: "Why aren't the cavalry deployed?"

They looked up to see Wei Shu.

Wei Shu, with his delicate features, had been responsible for managing provisions this time. Coupled with his reticent nature and sparse words, he was practically invisible in the camp.

Amid the chaos, this young man who never concerned himself with their battles had lifted the tent flap and confronted them. The generals looked embarrassed and said, "The cavalry can't form ranks and can't charge out. This is military strategy—what would you know?"

Ignoring their skepticism, Wei Shu replied, "Why can't they form ranks? Tear down all the camps, smash the pots and pans in the rear—clear the space, and won't they be able to form ranks then?"

The generals stared blankly.

Then they said, "You want to destroy the provisions camp? What will we eat tomorrow?"

Wei Shu's expression remained cold. "I've already had a group of soldiers carry some provisions and escape. Even if all the food and utensils are destroyed, as long as we hold out until noon tomorrow, the military exercise will be over. It's only half a day—no one will starve to death."

The generals, all talented young men themselves, had simply not considered such a desperate measure initially.

Now that Wei Shu mentioned it, they were capable of making the decision. They immediately slapped the table: "Good! Pass the order—level the camps, form the cavalry ranks! Tonight, we'll truly confront the enemy! Even if we're meant to lose, we won't make it easy for the Uman King!"

Having persuaded the generals, Wei Shu left the tent and hurried to check on the provisions.

The enemy vanguard was already moving through the city, though the main army was still blocked. But it wouldn't hold for long. Wei Shu needed to hurry to relocate the provisions and clear space for their own cavalry to charge.

As a logistics officer, his only duty was to ensure that tomorrow's rations wouldn't lead to starvation.

Fires of battle erupted everywhere as the two armies clashed. Wei Shu avoided any fighting he saw and, protected by the soldiers accompanying him, made his way toward the provisions camp.

Suddenly, a long blade thrust from the darkness toward Wei Shu. Silent and unnoticed, it wasn't until the blade was upon him that its cold, sharp intent made Wei Shu look up, stunned. The blade swept horizontally, wielded by a formidable enemy who shouted in broken Great Wei language: "Surrender now!"

Wei Shu pressed his lips together and said nothing: at such a critical moment, if he surrendered, who would take responsibility for the provisions camp?

He would surrender eventually, but not now.

Wei Shu remained silent, and the enemy didn't halt his blade, slashing directly at him. The military exercise wouldn't result in deaths, but injuries were inevitable. Forced to stagger back by the blade, Wei Shu watched as several soldiers rushed to block, only to be surrounded and subdued by more enemies.

Wei Shu fell to the ground, and as the blade descended toward him, he still refused to utter surrender. Just as the blade was about to pierce his chest, a hand suddenly reached out from the side, pulling him to his feet.

The figure spun around, palms pressed together to block the incoming blade. With a sharp cry, a sword was drawn from the waist and met the enemy's weapon.

Sparks flew as their weapons clashed.The enemy exclaimed in surprise, "You're a woman? A true man doesn't fight with women."

This woman's martial skills were impressive, yet her voice was remarkably clear and delicate: "Only those who can't beat a woman would boast like that!"

This sudden appearance could only be Zhao Lingfei.

Zhao Lingfei held Wei Shu with one hand while fending off the enemy with the other. Finding no advantage against her, the enemy grew furious but had no choice but to retreat. Zhao Lingfei then turned to look at Wei Shu.

Wei Shu's expression remained cold and detached, as if veiled in a layer of frost.

They spoke simultaneously—

Zhao Lingfei glared: "Why didn't you just surrender?"

Wei Shu: "Where did you come from?"

Then they both froze.

Zhao Lingfei puffed her cheeks: "I've been following you all along! Second Brother Yan told me to protect you. Did you think I'd be so irresponsible as to abandon you and run off?"

Wei Shu took a step back, clasped his hands behind him, tilted his head slightly, pursed his lips, and frowned with a hint of unease.

He thought in confusion: What did "following him all along" mean? Did she know everything he did? Had he done anything strange?

The sound of horns grew more urgent.

Hearing the urgent horn blasts, Zhao Lingfei and Wei Shu both looked up to listen. Then Zhao Lingfei grabbed Wei Shu's wrist again and spoke rapidly: "The enemy is charging the city again! Come with me—"

Wei Shu: "No. I need to go to the supply camp."

Zhao Lingfei: "How can you still care about supplies at a time like this? The enemy will surely be swarming there—I can't handle that many."

Wei Shu said nothing.

Zhao Lingfei assumed he agreed with her.

But as soon as she released his wrist to switch her sword to her other hand, Wei Shu turned and walked away. Judging by his direction, he was indeed heading to the supply camp, leaving Zhao Lingfei stunned.

Zhao Lingfei stamped her foot.

She shouted: "Hey—can't you say something?! Even if you insist on going, can't you at least tell me properly... We're partners, not enemies! Hey, wait for me! You might run straight into the Uman King and then I'll have to save you again!

"Won't you say anything? How did Second Brother Yan end up assigning me to guard this silent gourd? You're going to be the death of me!"

Grumbling and complaining, Zhao Lingfei still stormed after Wei Shu—

From the high mountain, the army led by the Uman King breached the Wei army's city gates in less than half an hour of charging.

As the gates splintered open, the Uman King's forces clashed with the Wei cavalry.

Meng Zaishi showed no fear, charging ahead on his horse to meet the enemy first.

Amid raging flames and continuous white flags of surrender burning on the ground, both sides fought with bloodshot eyes, inevitably beginning to suffer casualties, yet neither side cared anymore. While wreaking havoc across the battlefield, Meng Zaishi received news that their own camp had sent an urgent report, requesting the Uman King return for reinforcements.

Meng Zaishi said coldly: "Tell them to hold out."

The messenger: "Your Majesty, we can't hold on... Yan Erlang personally led troops to burn our supplies and had someone impersonate you. We were all deceived at first. Our losses are severe..."

Meng Zaishi: "I'll return for reinforcements after dealing with this front. Seal the message—no one but me is to spread this news. If anyone dares disrupt our morale, I'll treat them as a traitor!"

The Uman King stood firm, clearly determined to capture the Wei army even at the cost of heavy losses to his own camp. The messenger had no choice but to obey the king's orders.

The battle lasted for two hours, continuing past midnight into the fourth day of the Military Exercise before the Uman King finally forced all Wei troops to surrender, securing victory in this engagement.Without the slightest hesitation, after dealing with the majority of the army, the Uman King turned his horse and led his troops to reinforce his own camp.

The two armies clashed in a pouch-shaped valley between them. This valley, facing the direction of the envoy's forces, was easy to defend but difficult to attack. Yet it was also the shortest route back to the camp. After only a moment's thought, Meng Zaishi chose to take this path.

Dense clouds obscured the moonlight, and the forest was thick with shadows as horses' hooves kicked up dust.

Thousands of cavalry followed Meng Zaishi to reinforce the camp. But as they entered the valley, Meng Zaishi at the front suddenly raised his arm, pulling the reins to halt his horse. The steed let out a long neigh, its hooves kicking high, while Meng Zaishi sat firmly in the saddle, facing Yang Si—also known as Yang Sanlang—who had led a mere hundred men to block the path on the other side of the valley.

Meng Zaishi glared fiercely: "Make way!"

Yang Si, mounted on his horse, laughed casually at the thousands of troops before him: "The provisions aren't fully burned yet. Why would I make way?

"But Uman King, you're too slow. I've been waiting so long I nearly fell asleep."

Meng Zaishi: "Yang Sanlang, you have only a hundred cavalry, while we have over a thousand. Do you think you can stop me? Even with the terrain advantage, you cannot hold me back! Better to surrender early and minimize your losses. That way, when you report to your leader, it might look slightly better."

Yang Si lowered his gaze, a faint, ambiguous smile appearing on his face.

Slowly raising his head, his eyes met Meng Zaishi's.

Both men's eyes were filled with killing intent, both recalling the unfinished battle at South Mountain.

Yang Si spoke word by word: "Unfortunately, I don't care for impressive battle reports—I only seek a fight with the Uman King. Come on!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he spurred his horse forward first, his men closely following. The Uman King showed no hesitation either, waving his hand to signal the charge of his thousand troops.

The two armies collided in the valley. With no moon in the sky, it was the perfect night for battle!—

Leveraging the terrain and his exceptional mobility, Yang Si actually managed to block the enemy's attempt to break through in the pouch-shaped valley.

Yang Si fought with exhilaration, leading his troops in a fierce and satisfying clash. Surrenders came continuously, and men on Yang Si's side kept falling from their horses. Yet Yang Si pressed forward fearlessly, his heroic momentum startling the enemy and even tearing a new gap in their ranks.

Meng Zaishi: "Surround him! Shoot him off his horse! Capture Yang Sanlang alive, and the enemy will collapse without a fight!"

Yang Si laughed heartily.

As the two sides fought, birds fled in panic from the forest. This young hero, Yang Si, grew more energetic the longer he fought. Dozens of cavalry surrounding him couldn't unhorse him. However, as time dragged on, Yang Si's side was indeed outnumbered. Amid the chaos of arrows flying from all directions, Yang Si's prized warhorse finally collapsed with a thunderous crash.

The enemy cheered: "He's finally off his horse! Charge!"

Yang Si leaped from his falling horse, rolling on the ground to evade the trampling hooves around him. As he rose, a horse reared and stomped down, pinning him. Even Meng Zaishi's expression changed, thinking that if Yang Si were trampled to death, it would be hard to explain to Great Wei.

But in that instant, everyone heard a horse's agonized neigh as it was thrown to the ground. A young man, his spear stained with blood, used the falling horse's momentum to leap up from the ground. The fallen horse, its belly pierced by the spear, bled profusely, horrifying and paling those who saw it.They stared at Yang Sanlang as if he were a monster, surrounded by horses.

A strand of long hair fell across his face, splattered with horse blood. Yang Sanlang stood spear in hand—his solitary strength made the several men encircling him hesitate, unwilling to advance for fear their own horses would be injured.

Meng Zaishi immediately recognized these ragtag fighters were worrying about their horses again. His expression unchanged, he shouted, "Have you lost your minds? These are horses provided by Great Wei, not our own! In military exercises, we fight without considering external factors!"

Meng Zaishi pointed his blade at Yang Si and roared, "With over a thousand men and a hundred horses, can we not capture a single dismounted Yang Sanlang?!"

Dust swirled as Yang Si gripped his spear, horses beginning to circle around him. His eyes gleamed, watching for an opportunity to break through the equine formation. But this time, with Meng Zaishi personally commanding, such mistakes were unlikely. Yang Si soon abandoned that possibility and began seeking chances to seize a horse when blades and spears swung toward him from horseback.

Meng Zaishi grew impatient: "Yang Sanlang, will you not admit defeat now?"

Yang Si laughed brightly: "Is the king growing anxious? Only by capturing me can you return to reinforce your camp! Perhaps you should take another route, Your Majesty!"

Meng Zaishi: "You seek death!"—

Meng Zaishi had been trapped here by Yang Si's mere hundred men due to momentary hot-headedness. But he soon realized impulsive decisions were unwise—the terrain was inherently unfavorable for attack, and Yang Si remained unyielding... If they were truly delayed here for two hours, their camp would likely fall completely, turning potential victory into defeat.

Meng Zaishi gritted his teeth: "Withdraw! We'll take another path!"

Yang Si laughed: "Does the king think he can come and go as he pleases? Do you take us so lightly—"

Yang Si hurled his spear, astonishing everyone. Who would have thought that leading so few troops, he'd not only hold defense but dare to attack?!

However, remaining calm, Meng Zaishi completely ignored Yang Si's assault. While ordering some men to block Yang Si's forces, he began retreating from the gorge. Though Yang Si fought fiercely, he truly couldn't prevent the thousand-strong enemy from withdrawing.

The bulk of the army exited the gorge, taking an alternate route.

Yang Si stood bloodstained on the clearing before the gorge, followed by a handful of disheveled men. Some had surrendered, others still held out. But the Black Barbarians' army had withdrawn.

They wondered anxiously: Had they... completed their mission?

Several men looked at Yang Si, confused yet excited: "Sanlang... have we won this battle? Has the Uman King fled?"

Yang Si didn't answer them. He retreated three steps and collapsed to his knees. His spear-hand trembled faintly, blood on his face highlighting his wild, untamable star-like eyes.

Yang Si exhaled deeply.

He fell backward, lying on the ground gasping for breath.

Suddenly he laughed heartily: "This old man has won—!"

The others stared blankly before joining in laughter, sitting down in small groups to banter and tease companions who had surrendered too quickly. The gorge's atmosphere turned joyous. Regardless of the military exercise's final outcome, they had certainly achieved merit in this battle.

Free from worries, the young men's clear laughter echoed through the gorge. Yang Si lay on his back, panting as he watched the star-filled sky overhead.

Stars flooded the heavens, clouds veiled the moon, and birds frightened away by the earlier battle cautiously returned.

Yang Si closed his eyes, still feeling the lingering sensation of boiling blood—

Combat, the battlefield. Passion, fine steeds... All of it enthralled him—Meng Zaishi rushed to the camp only to find the provisions completely burned. Yan Shang led the Wei army to surrender directly.

By the break of dawn, the entire Wei army had been defeated, standing on their own camp scorched by raging flames. The envoy troops led by the Uman King emerged as the victors of this military exercise.

The atmosphere among the envoys relaxed into jubilation as they awaited the conclusion of the military exercise.

Meng Zaishi's expression remained grim.

He asked the cheerful men beside him, "We still have half a day left. With all our provisions completely burned, have any of you considered what these thousands of troops will eat and drink during this time?"

A subordinate looked around blankly and said, "...It was all Yan Erlang's trickery. We didn't pay attention to the provisions from the beginning."

Someone optimistically remarked, "At most we'll just go hungry for half a day. It doesn't matter."

Meng Zaishi gazed indifferently at this ragtag group he led and said, "On a real battlefield, cutting off provisions for half a day would reduce our combat strength by half. If the Wei army attacks again, we're finished."

Someone discontentedly responded, "After all, this is just a military exercise... Besides, we achieved complete victory. Why must the Uman King be so harsh?"

Meng Zaishi crossed his arms and looked at them. "The Wei army harassed us repeatedly to lull us into complacency, so that when they finally launched their real attack on the camp, we would let our guard down and let them win. While we mostly won this battle, we suffered consecutive losses in two minor engagements. Do you call that a complete victory?"

The crowd fell silent.

Meng Zaishi paid them no further mind, striding toward the camp to inspect how badly the provisions had been burned and whether anything remained. However, if his predictions were correct, Yan Shang wouldn't have left him anything.

Indeed, there was no victory.

Standing before the completely incinerated provisions camp, the men's initial excitement gave way to worries about going hungry. Meng Zaishi sighed, remaining silent.

Although they had won this battle, having to go hungry for half a day... still felt like a defeat in victory.

Yan Shang, Yang Si, and even Wei Shu—who had actively destroyed their own formation to create space for the cavalry—if these men were to mature, they would become formidable adversaries.

Yet when Meng Zaishi looked back at these envoys, he saw that none of them had noticed, all merely concerned about their empty stomachs. Shaking his head, Meng Zaishi stopped speaking further with this ragtag group—

On the fourth day, as the military exercise concluded, everyone reported to the Crown Prince and Prince Qin. The Crown Prince and Prince Qin expressed their gratitude to the envoy delegation, showing no concern about their own side's defeat. Afterwards, the two princes led everyone to see the Emperor.

The Crown Prince said, "The Emperor has been awaiting the results of your military exercise. Regardless of victory or defeat, there will be a feast tonight to reward all officers. Whether it's Yan Erlang and the other Great Wei warriors, or the Uman King and his envoy troops... the Emperor says you are all exceptional young heroes. He has even composed poems and essays about you, set to music for people to sing through the ages."

Meng Zaishi looked at those young men from Great Wei and smiled, "So, this foreigner like me might actually live on in the legends of your Great Wei people?"

The Crown Prince laughed, "I'm afraid so. Is the King willing?"

Meng Zaishi half-joked, "Naturally I'm willing. Crossing swords with these young Great Wei generals has made me sigh at Great Wei's endless supply of talent, creating tremendous pressure. I shall take this as motivation to improve our military forces when I return to the Black Barbarians... We cannot afford to lose to Great Wei."

Another envoy nearby asked, "Where is the Great Wei Emperor?"

The Crown Prince gazed into the distance leisurely, "The scholarly duel has concluded, with results announced today. The Emperor went to watch the sixth princess preside over the scholarly duel."—

Thus, as evening fell, all the young men descended together, mounted their horses, and under the Crown Prince's leadership, galloped off to pay respects to the Emperor.Le You Plain was originally a vast expanse, entirely different from the densely packed streets and buildings of Chang'an city. With no fear of harming ordinary citizens, everyone loosened their reins, letting their horses roam freely as they galloped across the long roads!

What boundless freedom and unrestrained spirit—

In a pavilion, the Emperor sat quietly, watching his youngest daughter. Mu Wan Yao, with her crimson dress and snow-white skin, sat beside him, evaluating the results of the Scholarly Duel.

The Emperor gazed at her, just as he had been staring at her intently for days. Initially, Mu Wan Yao had been unnerved by his scrutiny, but over these past few days, she had grown accustomed to his gaze.

After declaring Great Wei the winner, Mu Wan Yao was about to wave her hand to dismiss the envoys when someone from the envoy delegation voiced dissent.

Someone said, "Are we truly so inferior to Great Wei in literary talent? On what grounds does Your Highness act as the judge? Could it be that Your Highness is a master of all the arts we competed in?"

The Emperor looked at them with a faint, ambiguous smile.

Mu Wan Yao raised her eyes and glanced coldly at the crowd. "Not a master, but I have some understanding of each. What, do you wish for me to step down and compete?"

A stir ran through the envoys, and they pushed one person forward. "This is the best zither player among us. Your Highness commented that his playing 'sounded like striking wood,' and we find it hard to accept. We wish to know what zither playing that isn't 'wooden' sounds like.

"We know Your Highness is unparalleled in playing the konghou, so we dare not humiliate ourselves by challenging that. If Your Highness can impress us with the zither, we will never question your judgment again."

The Emperor watched them with keen interest, his mind stirring: In the past, Mu Wan Yao was praised as "peerless in both talent and music." But he hadn't seen her practice these arts in years. Her konghou playing remained exquisite, but had her zither skills grown rusty?

Mu Wan Yao looked at them and decisively said, "Xiarong, bring my zither."—

Poplar and elm catkins danced in the air, drifting like floating fluff or falling snowflakes.

Under the twilight, several horses galloped straight toward the pavilion.

Nobles and commoners on the road hurriedly made way at the sound of hooves. They saw a group of young men and women riding past, stirring up petals and leaves as they headed toward the pavilion where the Emperor resided.

The youths and maidens on horseback were all strikingly handsome and beautiful. Their bold elegance and youthful vigor evoked admiration and envy.

Someone who recognized them exclaimed, "Isn't that the Uman King? Has the Military Exercise ended? Who won?"

Others counted the figures:

"That's Meng Zaishi, the Uman King, that's Yang Sanlang Yang Si, that's Yan Erlang Yan Shang, over there is Young Master Wei the Seventh Wei Shu... Wait, why is there a woman? It's Zhao Wuniang Zhao Lingfei."

"Have they all just returned from the Military Exercise grounds?"

The young men and women swept past the onlookers on their horses, halting one by one before the Emperor's pavilion.

The world fell silent as they heard zither music drifting from upstairs and instinctively looked up.

They saw Danyang Princess seated by the window, her fingers plucking the strings, the melody flowing gracefully from her slender fingertips—serene yet tinged with a wild, murderous intent.

Layered clouds filled the sky, and crimson sunset hues painted the horizon. The maiden sat in the high pavilion, playing the zither, her eyes lowering to gaze down at them.

Yan Shang, Yang Si, Wei Shu, Meng Zaishi, and Zhao Lingfei stared in awe, lost in the serene melody as if transported to a mystical realm of lofty mountains and flowing streams—

Poplar catkins filled the sky, the sunset clouds woven like silk, and the zither's notes encircled the beams, leaping like clear springs.

There was a beauty, seated in the high tower. A delight to behold, a joy to witness.

Unforgettable, forever—The sky was ablaze with rosy clouds as dusk descended. Lanterns were gradually lit, their flames flickering. Suddenly, a eunuch interrupted everyone's reverie: "His Majesty has summoned the evening meal—"

"Please follow this old servant upstairs!"