Wei Rao possessed the official documents to accompany Lu Zhuo to his post in Ganzhou. Relying on these documents and her status as Lu Zhuo’s wife, she successfully led five hundred garrison soldiers through the border checkpoint and headed straight for the military camp commanded by the Marquis of Xiting.
It was the seventh month, and the sun blazed fiercely. For the first time, Wei Rao galloped across the grassland without wearing a veil.
Zhao Bai, who rode closest to her, maintained a slight distance.
Her vision alternated between clarity and blurriness. The grassland winds were strong, drying her face, but the vast openness of the plains allowed her to stay on course even when her focus wavered occasionally.
After a full day of relentless travel, Wei Rao and her party finally caught sight of the military camp. Banners of various armies fluttered across the camp, and Wei Rao immediately spotted the crimson war flag of the Divine Martial Army.
The flag billowed in the wind like a leaping crimson flame, reminiscent of Lu Zhuo charging forward on horseback.
Her throat tightened. Wei Rao fixed her gaze on the flag, steadied herself for a moment, then urged her horse faster toward it.
The sentries, unable to distinguish friend from foe at a distance, promptly reported their approach to the commander, the Marquis of Xiting.
The Marquis dispatched his son, Han Liao, with a troop to investigate.
By then, Wei Rao’s group had drawn near. As Han Liao emerged, his eyes fell upon the leader—a white horse, its rider’s long hair streaming in the wind. When he recognized the face, it was Wei Rao!
Identifying her, Han Liao instantly deduced her purpose. As for the five hundred garrison soldiers Wei Rao had trained, he had already heard news of them back in the capital.
“My condolences, Princess!”
As Wei Rao approached, Han Liao dismounted to greet her, his expression heavy with feigned grief, as if he truly mourned Lu Zhuo’s death.
Wei Rao had clung to the hope that Lu Zhuo was alive. Never did she expect the first person she encountered at the camp to be Han Liao—someone who would never genuinely grieve for Lu Zhuo. Without even looking at his face, the sound of his voice alone sickened her. Reason abandoned her. Wei Rao raised her whip and lashed out at Han Liao’s head and face!
With Han Liao’s skill, he could have easily dodged entirely. Yet, lost in thought, he merely tilted his head slightly and took the blow on his shoulder.
Wei Rao swept past him without a second glance, charging into the camp toward the Divine Martial Army’s encampment.
Zhao Bai followed closely. As Wei Rao reined in her horse before the commander’s tent of the Divine Martial Army, Zhao Bai roared, “The Princess is here! All soldiers of the Divine Martial Army, assemble before me!”
Before his voice faded, the sound of tent flaps being thrown open echoed repeatedly. In moments, the remaining eighteen thousand soldiers of the fifty-thousand-strong Divine Martial Army stood arrayed before them.
Wei Rao entered the tent.
This was Lu Zhuo’s command tent, furnished with his familiar belongings. Yet, as she moved from the outer chamber to the inner quarters, her searching eyes found no trace of Lu Zhuo.
She stood frozen in place.
Outside, Zhao Bai interrogated a Divine Martial Army staff officer named Wu. Officer Wu’s voice choked with emotion as he recounted the circumstances of Lu Zhuo and Lu Ya’s sacrifice: “…After Wuda’s forces retreated, we scoured every inch of Iron Scorpion Ridge. We only found the Young Lord’s spear and war helmet. The Wuda savages must have taken the bodies of the Young Lord and the Second Young Master…”Everything around her suddenly began to spin. Wei Rao closed her eyes, waiting for the waves of dizziness to finally subside. She wiped her face with her sleeve and stepped out expressionlessly, her gaze quickly settling on the Wu Adjutant General standing before Zhao Bai. "Just seeing the spear and helmet doesn't necessarily mean the Young Lord has met his demise. He could have escaped. Flying Ink is a divine steed—did any of you see its body?"
The Wuda generals might take Lu Zhuo's body back to claim credit, but they wouldn't go to the trouble of bringing a warhorse along.
Wei Rao believed that if Flying Ink were alive, it would guard Lu Zhuo without leaving his side. Only if Flying Ink were dead would she believe Lu Zhuo had truly met with misfortune.
Yet no one among the Divine Martial Army could give a definite answer to Wei Rao's question. When they returned to Iron Scorpion Ridge, they had been too focused on searching for the Young Lord and the Second Young Master. Among the many warhorse corpses, black horses were particularly common, and no one had thought to check if Flying Ink was among them.
"I'm going to Iron Scorpion Ridge. Who is willing to guide me?" Wei Rao remounted her horse, determined to search herself.
"Your Highness, please restrain your grief. Given the circumstances that day, it's impossible for Shoucheng and the others to still be alive. Moreover, the Wuda army could appear at any moment. Your Highness must not risk your life."
An aged, hoarse voice suddenly sounded from behind. Wei Rao turned and saw the gray-haired Marquis of Xiting, who looked utterly haggard, supported by his attendants. Behind the Marquis stood several generals.
The Wu Adjutant General stepped in front of Wei Rao's horse and introduced the generals to her, including Qin Min, the commander of the Yucheng Army, and Adjutant General Zheng, who had fought alongside Lu Zhuo many times.
Qin Min also urged Wei Rao, "Your Highness, please restrain your grief."
Wei Rao had no intention of discussing it further with them. Her gaze turned to the more than ten thousand Divine Martial Army troops. "I'll ask once more—who among you is willing to guide me?"
"I will!"
"I will!"
"I will!"
Over eighteen thousand Divine Martial Army soldiers shouted in unison!
If they dared to go, Wei Rao dared to take them all!
"This is a battlefield, Your Highness! You cannot treat it as a game!" Han Liao rushed out and blocked Wei Rao's horse.
Wei Rao sneered, her eyes sweeping over Han Liao and the Marquis of Xiting and his son, finally challenging the Marquis, "It's said that during that fierce battle, if the Marquis hadn't coughed up blood and fainted, the army might not have retreated. That spurt of blood came at a very convenient time, didn't it?"
The Marquis of Xiting's face darkened slightly, but he sighed deeply, unwilling to argue with a junior.
Han Liao, however, couldn't tolerate Wei Rao's insolence. Just as he was about to demand she apologize to his father, Wei Rao spurred her horse, bypassing Han Liao and charging outward.
Zhao Bai and the Wu Adjutant General led Wei Rao's five hundred household troops and the over eighteen thousand Divine Martial Army soldiers, following her in a mighty procession.
"Father, are you just going to let her go like this?" Han Liao asked with a complicated expression.
The Marquis of Xiting sighed. "Shoucheng's sacrifice is deeply painful for the Princess. It's understandable. Very well, you take twenty thousand troops and follow her. If you encounter the enemy, send word immediately."
Han Liao accepted the order, the spot on his shoulder where Wei Rao had struck him still aching faintly. Such a fiery beauty—he couldn't bear to see her throw her life away.
"I will also accompany General Han," Adjutant General Zheng suddenly declared.
The Marquis of Xiting glanced at Adjutant General Zheng and nodded.
Qin Min assigned ten thousand troops to Adjutant General Zheng.
Thus, the three forces combined totaled nearly fifty thousand soldiers, enough to handle any danger.
Wei Rao paid no attention to how many followed behind her. She only wanted to reach Iron Scorpion Ridge as quickly as possible.Iron Scorpion Ridge lay sprawled across the vast grassland like a massive, ferocious scorpion. After a day-long battle, the ridge was now littered with corpses, while vultures and hyenas circled overhead. Only when the thunderous sound of hoofbeats shook the heavens did they reluctantly depart, clutching scraps of flesh in their beaks.
The stench of death hung thick over Iron Scorpion Ridge. Though her face was pale, Wei Rao insisted on searching personally.
Soldiers of the Divine Martial Army cleared the path ahead, turning over every corpse they had inspected—and even the overlooked bodies of black warhorses—to facilitate Wei Rao’s examination.
They scoured the mountain paths but found nothing.
To Wei Rao, this was good news. The group ascended Iron Scorpion Ridge to continue their search.
As Wei Rao reached the mountainside, she suddenly saw a cloud of dust in the distance, as if an army of ten thousand Wuda soldiers were in pursuit...
Wei Rao caught sight of flashes of crimson!
The dozen or so figures being relentlessly chased by the Wuda army were almost all clad in crimson battle armor! Among them, a black warhorse surged ahead, its rider clad in silver armor that gleamed like flowing light under the sun, charging toward them!
"It’s the heir! Save the heir!"
The Divine Martial Army soldiers also spotted the distant chase. Without waiting for Wei Rao’s orders, they surged down the mountain like a tide, scrambling onto their horses and roaring as they charged toward the Wuda army.
Wei Rao was among them.
Han Liao followed with his men, his expression dark. Could Lu Zhuo’s luck be so great that he could carve a path to survival even from such a deadly trap?
If only General Zheng had brought ten thousand troops—he could have taken advantage of the chaos to finish Lu Zhuo off with an arrow!
Wei Rao’s side had nearly fifty thousand soldiers. The Wuda army pursued for a while longer, shooting arrows that claimed the lives of a few more Divine Martial Army soldiers, before turning and riding away.
At almost the same moment, the silver-armored man on the black warhorse collapsed from exhaustion, falling from his saddle.
Wei Rao, who had held back her tears for so long, now wept uncontrollably. Some of the Divine Martial Army soldiers ahead of her chased after the Wuda army, while others dismounted to aid their surviving comrades. Wei Rao’s gaze remained fixed on the silver-armored man surrounded by soldiers. Just as she prepared to dismount and embrace her husband, she heard someone address him as "Second Young Master."
Wei Rao’s foot slipped, and she stumbled forward onto the grass.
Zhao Bai, quick-eyed and swift, rushed over to steady her.
Wei Rao pushed him away and staggered toward the silver-armored man. Aside from one soldier supporting him, the other Divine Martial Army soldiers automatically made way.
Step by step, Wei Rao drew closer.
Lu Ya, weak and barely conscious, recognized Wei Rao. Tears rolled from the corners of his eyes, and his chapped lips trembled as he whispered, "Sister-in-law, Elder Brother he..."
Before he could finish, a mouthful of blood sprayed across his face.
Lu Ya stiffened, then quickly reacted, catching Wei Rao as she collapsed into his arms.
In his embrace, Wei Rao lay pale as snow, a streak of crimson staining the corner of her lips. Lu Ya recalled fleeing over the ridge days earlier and hearing Wuda soldiers exclaim excitedly at the base of the cliff that they had found his elder brother’s body. A surge of metallic bitterness rose in his throat. His elder brother had given him a chance to live—even his escape from Iron Scorpion Ridge with his men was only possible because his brother had led a charge up the opposite ridge, drawing the main force of the Wuda army.
He had failed his elder brother, and he had failed his sister-in-law.
Overwhelmed by physical exhaustion and profound shame, Lu Ya soon lost consciousness, still holding Wei Rao in his arms.No one noticed a black horse galloping past fifty thousand troops, charging straight into the deserted Iron Scorpion Ridge. The steed rampaged through the valley but failed to find its master. Returning to the ravine where they had last parted, it nudged corpse after corpse with its muzzle.
Wei Rao had merely fainted from acute distress. After Zhao Bai pressed her philtrum, she regained consciousness.
"Your Highness, the eldest miss is still waiting for you at the manor. You must preserve your health," Zhao Bai retreated and knelt, voice choked with emotion.
Still disoriented, Wei Rao recalled something when Zhao Bai mentioned A Bao and turned to look beside her.
There lay Lu Ya, eyes closed and features gaunt, bearing some resemblance to Lu Zhuo when he'd been hovering between life and death.
The cousins had always shared similar brow and eye features.
So at the critical moment, Lu Zhuo had given Flying Ink to Lu Ya?
Of course he would do that for his own cousin.
Wei Rao found she couldn't summon any resentment toward him - nor did she have the strength for it.
Just then, a familiar whinny echoed from Iron Scorpion Ridge.
It was Flying Ink.
Had the horse gone searching for him too?
Wei Rao mounted her horse and returned to the valley of Iron Scorpion Ridge.
Flying Ink approached her, carrying something in its mouth.
Dismounting, she caressed the horse's face with one hand while accepting the object with the other.
It was a handkerchief, almost entirely stained with blood.
Embroidered on it were two rather clumsily rendered mandarin ducks. Wei Rao had never excelled at needlework. That day when A Gui teased Zhao Song about receiving a handkerchief from Bitao, Lu Zhuo happened to witness it and came demanding one from her too. Unable to refuse him, she'd mustered her best embroidery skills to create this piece - the only one she ever made for him.
So why had he discarded it?
Wei Rao embraced Flying Ink and, for the first time, wept aloud.
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