The towering city gate marked the final boundary of western Da Zhou—beyond it lay nothing but desolate desert, the territory of Xijing itself!

The convoy beneath the gate was so modest, it couldn’t even compare to an ordinary merchant caravan—who could possibly have guessed this was truly Prince Yao’s own entourage?

Prince Baxian stood high atop the city gate. The Western General didn’t recognize Yingzi, but Prince Baxian certainly did, and he knew full well that Jun Beiyue himself sat within the largest carriage.

He had originally intended to intercept him at the harbor, but by the time he’d arrived, Jun Beiyue had already departed—so he’d come straight to this gate instead to block him here!

Today, once Jun Beiyue passed through this gate, there would be no chance left to salvage the situation at all.

With Xijing’s sand-worship ceremony imminent, should Eastern Qin move to mobilize troops, Western Chu would surely stir as well—perhaps Jun Beiyue could safely entrust such matters to the Tiger Army. But what of Nanzhao?

Should Nanzhao ever choose to retaliate, even with the combined military strength of this entire continent, there was no guarantee they could stand against Nanzhao at all!

For the sake of one woman, to abandon the entire realm to chaos, to spark an era of turmoil across all of Longyuan—was it truly worth it?

Prince Baxian watched coldly as Yingzi and Situ Haonan approached from a distance. Beside him, the Western General, upon spotting Situ Haonan, immediately paled. “Prince Baxian, isn’t that… Young Master Situ?”

Yingzi might go unrecognized, but Situ Haonan, as both the young master of Situ City and Jun Beiyue’s one true friend, was known to absolutely everyone throughout Da Zhou.

“Indeed it is,” Prince Baxian said coldly, his expression stern, his gaze sharp as a blade.

The Western General’s brow furrowed. He hesitated a moment, then immediately stepped back and bowed. “Prince Baxian, with Prince Yao himself present in person, this humble servant must beg leave!”

With that, he turned hastily to depart.

In the old Da Zhou, only one man had ever stood above Jun Beiyue: Emperor Tianhui himself.

Emperor Tianhui held the reins of court governance; Jun Beiyue commanded the military. Emperor Tianhui was sovereign, was father; Jun Beiyue was prince, was son.

But in present-day Da Zhou, Emperor Tianhui had become nothing more than a puppet ruler—Jun Beiyue was the true power behind the throne.

Prince Baxian himself had merely been invited to oversee state affairs in his stead; Prince Baxian held no military authority whatsoever, and his standing was in no way superior to Jun Beiyue’s own.

Every soldier throughout Da Zhou could freely disregard any order from Prince Baxian—yet should Jun Beiyue himself stand upon this very spot, the entire army would kneel before him without exception.

“Stand where you are!” Prince Baxian called out coldly, refusing to turn around, standing firm with his hands clasped behind his back, watching coldly as Yingzi and Situ Haonan drew ever closer. “General, kindly inform Prince Yao that should he wish to pass through this gate today, he will have to walk right over this prince’s own body to do it!”

With that, Prince Baxian turned and strode past the stunned Western General, hurrying down from the watchtower.

“Prince Baxian, this…”

The Western General finally snapped back to his senses and hurried after him, but by then, Prince Baxian had already ordered the gate opened and personally taken up a long spear, standing squarely in the center of the gateway!

Draped in gray robes, his hair entirely white, his frame notably thin and frail—by all appearances, nothing more than a weak old man—and yet the stern gravity in his expression was enough to make everyone present instinctively pause.

Yingzi and Situ Haonan came to a halt as well, exchanging a stunned glance with Prince Baxian.

Yingzi hesitated, on the verge of trying to reason with him. Though Prince Baxian was a stubborn old man by nature, persuading him was still far more feasible than persuading their own master—in his master’s entire life, the very concept of being persuaded had never once existed.

But Situ Haonan had no time to spare for such considerations—their schedule was far too pressing.

The sand-worship ceremony wouldn’t wait for anyone. Ziqing still hadn’t woken; her wounds, her poison, couldn’t wait either.

Seeing the Western General finally hurry over, Situ Haonan immediately raised the scorpion-shaped ring high, calling out loudly, “General, heed this order!”

The moment the Western General saw the scorpion ring, he froze at once—regardless of whether Prince Yao himself had truly come, seeing this ring was as good as seeing Prince Yao in person!

This was known throughout the entirety of Da Zhou’s army!

The Western General immediately dropped to one knee. “Long live Prince Yao, ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand thousand years!”

“Heed this order!” Situ Haonan said coldly, deliberately averting his gaze from Prince Baxian’s furious expression.

“This humble servant awaits your command!”

“Prince Yao travels to Xijing at the King’s invitation. Clear the road immediately and guide the way to Albak City in Xijing!” Situ Haonan commanded, each word ringing out clear and firm.

“Yes, sir!” The Western General accepted the order at once, turning to instruct the guards beside him to begin preparations. Situ Haonan and Yingzi, without so much as a glance back at Prince Baxian, turned and walked away.

The Western General bowed deeply to Prince Baxian, declaring loudly, “Prince Baxian, the prince’s command is absolute—please, step aside!”

Prince Baxian glared furiously, stamping his foot and standing all the more rigidly upright. “This prince has already spoken! If he wishes to leave through this gate today, he will have to walk right over this prince’s own body!”

Just then, the carriages had already begun approaching—only three in total, a small carriage leading the way, the great carriage in the middle, and a smaller one bringing up the rear, accompanied by only a modest handful of guards, all shadow guards of the Glass Pavilion.

Such a modest procession—how could this possibly resemble a royal visit befitting a prince paying diplomatic call on another nation?

The leading carriage moved aside. Yingzi and Situ Haonan sat outside the main carriage, and seeing that Prince Baxian and the Western General still hadn’t moved, Situ Haonan called out coldly, “General, if you don’t clear the way this instant, the horses’ hooves won’t be held responsible for what happens next.”

Such blunt words left the Western General with no way to respond, no chance to offer any further explanation. He shot one last glance at Prince Baxian before immediately leading everyone away, throwing the gate wide open.

Prince Baxian glared furiously at Situ Haonan—or rather, more precisely, at the carriage’s curtain itself—breathing heavily with rage, yet saying nothing further. Instead, he gathered up his long robes and lay down flat, right in the center of the gateway!

“You old fool!”

Situ Haonan ground his teeth in frustration. Had Emperor Tianhui not suppressed every capable civil and military talent throughout his reign, Da Zhou would never have found itself so utterly bereft of competent officials at court today—it was precisely this dearth of talent that had originally led Han Ziqing to think of bringing Prince Baxian out of retirement in the first place!

This worthy prince possessed extraordinary talent for governance, yet carried one deeply infuriating flaw: once he returned to public life, he was utterly convinced that Da Zhou’s emperor must go on to conquer the entire realm, that any sacrifice, however great, was justified in pursuit of that singular goal.

Every value, every principle, was to be judged solely against that one objective.

And now the man had simply lain down.

Either they would have to drag him aside, or they would have to walk right over him.

Situ Haonan gave the matter no further thought and moved to step forward—but at that moment, Jun Beiyue’s low voice sounded from within the carriage. “Haonan, wait.”

Situ Haonan started in surprise. Surely Jun Beiyue wasn’t actually going to compromise now?

Though Da Zhou currently faced a rather precarious situation, Jun Beiyue’s journey to Xijing hadn’t involved marching an army there directly, after all.

And as for Nanzhao, the King’s letter had expressed concern, not direct accusation—surely Jun Beiyue didn’t intend to proactively explain himself to the King of Nanzhao now?

Jun Beiyue wasn’t even Nanzhao’s subject—why would he need to explain how he’d won a battle?

The King of Nanzhao’s investigation would take time regardless; they, meanwhile, couldn’t afford any further delay.

At the very least, for now, Jun Beiyue’s fury remained under control; at the very least, the world hadn’t yet descended into chaos.

What exactly was Jun Beiyue conceding to Prince Baxian here?

But soon, Situ Haonan saw Physician Gu approaching from behind, leading several attendants carrying a large pot of medicinal broth and hot water.