The moment Situ Haonan drew his sword, Deputy Beichen was so startled he scrambled behind Dugu Xianyun for cover.

On the battlefield, Deputy Beichen was a formidable warrior — but in single combat, neither he nor the entire Xijing army combined would have stood a chance against Situ Haonan.

“I’m no deserter!”

Situ Haonan’s figure flashed forward, closing in behind Deputy Beichen at once, startling him into spinning around and drawing his blade, bracing to defend against the sword.

But Situ Haonan had no intention of harming him. Gripping his sword tightly, he roared out, word by word, “Even without a single soldier under my command, I, Situ Haonan, am still a general — acknowledged by your own Emperor of Xijing himself! Let me tell you this — even if I die on this battlefield, I, Situ Haonan, will never be called a deserter!”

With that, he spun around and leapt onto his horse, charging straight toward the western gate.

What was he planning to do?

Dugu Xianyun shot Deputy Beichen a furious glare, with no time to reprimand him, and rushed after Situ Haonan. Deputy Beichen stood frozen with shock for a long moment before finally snapping out of it and chasing after them — only to be struck dumb once more.

Most riders would charge up to the gate and shout for it to be opened. But this madman rode his horse straight up onto the top of the city wall!

Had he lost his mind? What exactly was he trying to do?

There stood Situ Haonan, horse and all, at the very top of the city gate, facing inward toward the city, sword raised, pointed at the crowd below.

In an instant, the entire city — soldiers and civilians alike — was thrown into an uproar. Anyone unaware of the situation might have thought war had broken out!

But surely even a declaration of war wouldn’t look quite like this.

Situ Haonan — the supreme commander personally appointed by the Emperor of Xijing, a man of the martial world, the very man who had once stolen away their princess and had now returned to atone — what exactly was he trying to do?

As the crowd buzzed with confusion and mounting fear, Situ Haonan reined in his horse and suddenly bellowed, “Every last one of my martial-world troops has left! They’re deserters! They don’t deserve to call themselves soldiers! This news will spread soon enough, and Wanyan Lie will attack the city before long!”

At these words, General Dugu was the first to gasp in horror. Did Situ Haonan not realize this news would throw the army into chaos, send the people into a panic?

Was that why he’d charged up onto the gate — just to announce this?

Madness!

Situ Haonan had surely been driven out of his mind by all this.

But Situ Haonan wasn’t mad at all — he was perfectly clear-headed. He’d been pushed to the edge. If his mother had the power to recall every soldier under his command, she certainly had the power to get word to Wanyan Lie’s ears too.

His mother would be only too pleased if Xijing lost this war, if Yelu Qianqian were sent off to Xiliang, if he could never be with her! She’d be delighted to see him hunted down in disgrace by Xijing’s forces, forced to flee back to Situ City for shelter!

But he refused to let that happen.

If the news of the martial-world troops’ withdrawal was going to come out anyway, better it come from his own mouth than someone else’s.

As the crowd stood in shock, some already beginning to panic, Situ Haonan suddenly turned slowly, facing outward beyond the city, and laughed up at the sky. “Have you all heard of my brother, Jun Beiyue? At fifteen, he rode a thousand miles alone, single-handedly cut down the Western Chu army, and pacified the chaos on Da Zhou’s northern frontier. Today, I will follow his example — I will kill Wanyan Lie myself!”

With that, Situ Haonan snapped the reins and drove his horse leaping off the high city gate into the air below!

“Good… good heavens…” Deputy Beichen’s mouth hung open, unable to close, utterly unable to believe Situ Haonan possessed such spirit, such courage.

All around, both soldiers and civilians cried out in astonishment — astonished by Situ Haonan’s bravery, astonished by his sheer force of will.

Seeing this, General Dugu immediately sounded the horn himself, rallying the troops, preparing to charge.

Whether Situ Haonan announced the withdrawal of the martial-world troops or not, the news would reach Wanyan Lie’s ears soon enough. Better to strike now, while morale was soaring, than wait for the enemy to strike first.

“Open the gates! Charge out!”

General Dugu, following Situ Haonan’s lead, leapt onto his own horse atop the wall and shouted, “Today, every one of us is a general, every one of us a hero! Every one of us charges out alone, sword in hand! Do you have the courage?”

“Yes!” thousands roared as one, deafening, with no small number of civilians joining in.

“Good. Charge!”

General Dugu bellowed, following Situ Haonan over the wall, and in an instant, a great tide of soldiers surged forth. Not far off, in his camp, Wanyan Lie realized far too late that the enemy was already upon him. Caught utterly unprepared, he had no choice but to order a retreat.

It was the first time the Xiliang army had ever retreated on its own initiative. The Xijing army’s morale soared, and they pressed the advantage without mercy. Situ Haonan rode like a man possessed, his eyes bloodshot, his long black hair whipping wildly in the wind.

If fate had decreed he couldn’t leave, if he was meant to fight for Qianqian’s sake right here on this battlefield, then so be it — he would throw everything he had into it and never look back.

As for the northern steppe — he would leave it all to Yingzi.

Meanwhile, in the northern steppe, Yingzi had just crossed through the woods to the southeast and was making his way toward the small town. Past the bonfire festivities, though it was the New Year, it was also the coldest time of year. The bitter cold gripped the land, and every household had stocked up on provisions — without some special reason, no one would normally venture outdoors.

Even those who did go out usually just visited neighbors nearby. Only the more adventurous young folk braved the wind and snow to hunt for game up in the mountains.

Yu Xiaomeng, who usually went out often, hadn’t been seen for days.

She had fallen ill. Ever since she’d returned from Xuanyuan Lige’s courtyard that day, she’d been bedridden. The old witch doctor had come to see her several times, saying it was a severe case of wind-borne illness that had lingered in her body for a long time before finally erupting all at once — she would need to rest properly until spring before she could recover.

Late at night, in the small, quiet room, warm firelight glowed. Old Madam Yu sat by the fire, chin resting on her hands, watching Yu Xiaomeng and sighing.

Ever since that day she’d come home, Yu Xiaomeng had barely spoken to her — as if she’d become an entirely different person.

“Alright, alright, stop sulking, stop it already. Mother admits Mother shouldn’t have stopped you — but if I hadn’t stopped you that day, and you’d gone, people might’ve suspected you of harming that girl!” Old Madam Yu said impatiently.

Yu Xiaomeng didn’t even glance at her, eyes downcast, spirits low. She didn’t blame anyone, didn’t dwell on anything in particular — she was simply, deeply unhappy.

She knew Young Master Xuanyuan already had someone in his heart, and that was only natural — she could accept it. But she still felt the ache, the tightness in her chest. She knew she shouldn’t, and yet some part of her wanted desperately to rush over and ask him — only, if she did rush over, she wouldn’t even know what to ask, or what right she had to ask it.

So she did nothing at all. She simply suffered, not knowing how to make the pain stop.

Old Madam Yu watched her daughter sink deeper into despair, let out a deep breath, and was about to speak — but stopped herself. She held back, she waited, waiting to see what Xuanyuan Shang could possibly do to bring that girl back to consciousness.