While Zhan Yuheng’s great army bore down upon them, Feng Jiu’er had gathered nearly all her troops near the north gate of Yamu City.

Unexpectedly, an unknown army suddenly appeared in the mountain range east of Yamu City, repeatedly attacking toward the city.

Not to mention Feng Jiu’er—even Nanmen Zhuo had no idea when a troop had come to garrison the eastern mountain range.

While fending off Zhan Yuheng’s main force, Feng Jiu’er also had to deploy troops to guard the city, trying her best to prevent the eastern enemy from expanding the territory it had seized.

The troops returning to the city were led by Zhao Yusheng and Nanmen Zhuo.

The battle lasted three days and three nights, with countless casualties on both sides.

Outside the north gate of Yamu City lay a vast stretch of green plains.

But after these days of fighting, the surroundings were almost entirely stained red.

After three days and three nights, the fighting finally stopped. Both sides remained stationed in their own camps, with no victor yet decided.

“Jiu’er, as of now, the third unit’s casualties have reached five hundred.” Qiao Mu’s voice rang out in the tent.

“The second unit’s count stands at nine hundred for now.” Jian Yi said in a deep voice.

“First unit—over seven hundred brothers killed or wounded.” The last to speak was the first unit’s captain, Tuoba Keyan.

Feng Jiu’er had said before that those counted among the casualties meant brothers no longer able to fight; those only lightly injured generally didn’t need to be included in that count.

In other words, the number actually wounded was certainly no less than this figure.

“Alright, I understand. Everyone go and rest while you can.”

As Feng Jiu’er’s voice fell, no one made any move to leave.

Finally, Qiao Mu said softly, “Let’s go. Everyone go rest for a while—Jiu’er should rest too.”

“Mm.” Xiao Yingtao nodded, glanced at Xing Zizhou. “Come on, let’s go change your bandages.”

“Alright.” Xing Zizhou nodded in response. “Jiu’er, you should rest a while too.”

Qiao Mu left, Xiao Yingtao and Xing Zizhou left as well, and Tuoba Keyan, saying nothing, turned and departed.

Inside the tent, only Feng Jiu’er, Jian Yi, and Xue Gu remained.

“Aunt Xue, you should go rest too. These past two days I’ve been doing fine—I don’t need your internal energy assistance.” Feng Jiu’er raised her eyes to look at Xue Gu and said softly.

Xue Gu had wanted to say something, but in the end said nothing, nodded, and turned to leave.

Feng Jiu’er glanced at Jian Yi. Jian Yi walked over and lowered the tent flap.

Unfolding the letter in her hand—the one sent by Zhao Yusheng’s carrier bird—Feng Jiu’er’s mood grew even heavier.

“Jian Yi, what should we do about this?”

She set down the letter, let out a soft sigh, and slumped over the table.

“What’s wrong?” Jian Yi stepped over and sat down across from her.

“Zhao Yusheng says the fighting in the east keeps spreading outward, and their forces are starting to run short on manpower.” Feng Jiu’er’s voice carried a note of helplessness.

“Fighting a war while also caring for the common people—their battle is even harder than ours.”

“I promised Nanmen Zhuo I’d keep finding ways to reduce the harm to Yamu City’s people, but unexpectedly, several thousand elite troops suddenly appeared in the eastern mountains.”

“And as it happens, our original plan was to drive the people toward the southeast.”

Thinking of the people’s suffering, and the current state of her own soldiers, Feng Jiu’er felt an unusual ache in her heart.

This was, in a sense, her first time personally leading an army into battle, and she seemed to understand more and more just how difficult it had been for the Ninth Imperial Uncle.

No commander could ever be indifferent to his own soldiers, his own people—and this bitterness weighed on Feng Jiu’er until she could hardly breathe.

Jian Yi didn’t know how to comfort people; he could only quietly stay by her side.

Watching the woman slumped over the desk, after a while he said softly, “Why don’t you rest for a bit first.”

“Our army’s situation is, for now, not too different from the enemy’s. This battle has already gone on for three days and three nights—continuing it won’t be settled in a moment or two.”

“Rest properly for now—perhaps once you wake up, a solution will come to you.”

Feng Jiu’er straightened her back and lifted her head, looking at the man sitting across from her.

“We can still hold this stalemate for a while longer, but what should we do about matters inside the city?”

Feeling restless inside, at a time like this she could only confide in Jian Yi, not wanting to affect anyone else’s morale.

Doing so admittedly accomplished little, but Feng Jiu’er still felt that having someone she trusted to listen to her troubles made her feel a little better.

And for now, the only person she could pour her heart out to was Jian Yi, the simplest and most straightforward of them all.

“Given the current situation, the moment we pull our troops back, the city gate will surely fall—and then the people’s lives will truly become hard.”

“And besides, if we don’t keep tying down the Crown Prince’s forces, he could simply turn and attack Mo City directly—by the time we tried to go rescue it, it would likely already be too late.”

“Jiu’er, why don’t you rest for a while.” Looking at her face, growing thinner day by day, Jian Yi felt no small ache in his own heart.

She was, after all, just a girl barely in her teens, yet she had to bear far more than he himself did.

Even a grown man, seeing such a situation, surely wouldn’t feel at ease either.

Feng Jiu’er let out a soft sigh and slumped over the table once more.

But Jian Yi stood up, came to her side, and suddenly bent down to embrace her.

“Jian Yi, what are you doing?” Feng Jiu’er’s eyes widened, and she sat up, dodging Jian Yi’s touch.

“Go rest for a while.” Jian Yi met her gaze, his expression growing noticeably more serious.

“But even if I lie down, I won’t be able to sleep—I’d rather think things through properly.” Feng Jiu’er shook her head.

“No!” Jian Yi still kept approaching. “These past few days, you haven’t rested at all. You must rest properly for a while.”

Looking at the handsome man drawing near, Feng Jiu’er had no choice but to stand up, slip away to the other side, go to the bed, take off her boots, and lie down.

“Jian Yi, what about Zhao Yusheng’s side? So much of Nanmen Zhuo’s army is in my hands—I can’t just abandon him and his people.”

Lying on the bed, she turned her head to look at Jian Yi not far away.

Jian Yi walked over to the bedside, looking at Feng Jiu’er, his thick brows knitting slightly.

“Do you want me to hold you until you fall asleep?”

Feng Jiu’er thought she must have misheard—their innocent Hero Jian Yi was actually starting to learn how to use tricks now? Was the world about to turn upside down?

Shooting Jian Yi a look, Feng Jiu’er turned her back to him.

“Don’t come closer! I’m not that kind of casual person.”

Jian Yi stopped a short distance away, gazed at the small figure on the bed for a good while, then suddenly said softly, “Don’t worry, this battle won’t last much longer.”

Feng Jiu’er turned over, looked at Jian Yi, and her crescent brows immediately knitted together.

“Jian Yi, what do you mean by that? You’re not thinking of taking some risk, are you?”

Jian Yi kept approaching, came to Feng Jiu’er’s side, and crouched down halfway.

“If I don’t come back, take good care of yourself.”

Just as he was about to reach out and touch Feng Jiu’er’s head, she suddenly sat up and shoved him.

“What do you mean, not come back? That’s absurd! Don’t tell me—you’re planning to go assassinate the Crown Prince?”