“This is a map of the Innocent Abyss. Beneath the Innocent Abyss lies the boundless deep sea — the territory of the Silver Jiao, a branch of the jiaoren race hidden away in Longyuan. This here is a tunnel I had dug — starting from the western side of the northern frontier highlands, descending several hundred zhang straight down to this ring of cliffs, then a suspension bridge crossing the abyss, followed by a tunnel leading straight into the city of West Chu.”

Xuanyuan Lige paused there. He had come as an envoy, to persuade Minhan Mudeer into an alliance with East Qin — yet at this moment, he seemed far more like a sovereign commanding the tides of fate, charting the course of the realm with a single gesture.

Minhan Mudeer, meanwhile, was already utterly stunned, leaning over the table, eyes fixed unblinking on the map, looking for all the world like a subject bowing in submission before Xuanyuan Lige.

Xuanyuan Lige — how could he possibly possess something like this?

He’d come as an envoy, laying his bargaining chips on the table, and yet he showed not the slightest urgency, calm and composed, as though nothing in this world could stir even the faintest ripple in his heart. He took a few unhurried sips of tea before continuing, “Three months from now, I’ll lead the Sound-Killing Army to strike the eastern part of West Chu. If Your Majesty is interested, the northern part of West Chu is yours.”

He said it so casually — and yet Minhan Mudeer’s heart lurched with alarm at the words.

The Sound-Killing Army!

East Qin’s legendary Sound-Killing Army — an army that had existed only in legend — had actually appeared!

Before the great battle at Longyuan, along the border between East Qin and the Xiongnu — what is now East Qin’s highland territory — legend held that a force of Sound-Killing soldiers had always been stationed there, East Qin’s last and strongest line of defense against the Xiongnu.

Unless pushed to absolute desperation, East Qin would never mobilize this secret army!

Even during the three-way chaos of war among East Qin, West Chu, and Da Zhou, East Qin had never once deployed this force!

The army earned its name because every single soldier in its ranks was a master of musical arts — using sound as their arrows, capable of killing with music alone.

East Qin’s Empress had never once summoned this army — so much so that not only the Xiongnu, but every other nation as well, had come to believe it was nothing more than a legend.

And yet today, Xuanyuan Lige had spoken of it with his own mouth!

Only then did realization dawn on Minhan Mudeer — so that was it! This Sound-Killing Army belonged to Xuanyuan Lige himself, not to East Qin!

Staring at the unbelievable map before him, and thinking of the utterly unknown size of this Sound-Killing Army, Minhan Mudeer found his usual overbearing arrogance draining away without his even realizing it. His brow furrowed deeply, and after studying Xuanyuan Lige for a long moment, he finally spoke. “Where did you get this map? How long have you been digging this tunnel? And — the Silver Jiao — are they involved in this?”

The sheer number of questions alone was enough to show that Minhan Mudeer’s interest had been well and truly caught.

And he’d asked several, one right after another!

Xuanyuan Lige gave no direct answer, instead slowly rolling up the map, saying with a faint smile, “These are matters of my own East Qin. If Your Majesty is interested — three months from now… I’ll see you in West Chu.”

With that, he rose, gave a bow, and turned to leave without a sound.

Minhan Mudeer sat stunned. Xuanyuan Lige — are you certain you came here to persuade me, or… or did you come here simply to inform me?

It wasn’t until Xuanyuan Lige’s figure had vanished entirely that Minhan Mudeer finally came back to himself, drawing in a sharp breath of cold air, murmuring to himself, “Jun Beiyue… the Sound-Killing Army has emerged into the world… your true rival… has finally appeared!”

Leaving the encampment, Xuanyuan Lige walked on without pause. Mi’er could already ride on her own now, no longer needing him to hold her reins.

Master and servant rode on, one ahead of the other, galloping across the vast, boundless grasslands, not exchanging a single word the entire day. Mi’er remained silent, as always — yet Xuanyuan Lige was even more silent than she was.

His stillness made Mi’er forget, even, that she couldn’t hear, forget that she wasn’t allowed to speak. Being with him seemed to require no words at all.

Not until night had fully fallen did the grassland sky slowly turn strange and beautiful, brilliant with stars, shooting stars streaking across from time to time. Beneath that starlit sky, a swarm of fireflies drifted by in the distance like flowing light through the silence of the night.

Mi’er was utterly exhausted, longing to stop and collapse flat on her back in the grass — but the man ahead of her showed no sign of tiring, walking on and on without pause.

She had no idea how long they’d walked, but finally, just before Mi’er was about to collapse from exhaustion, he stopped.

Seeing Xuanyuan Lige dismount, Mi’er’s heart leapt with joy, fumbling clumsily and nearly falling off her own horse — finally, she could lie down. Sitting on horseback for so long had left her utterly worn out.

And yet, she didn’t lie down right away — instead, she dutifully brought Xuanyuan Lige his evening meal, water and dried rations.

He waved it away; he didn’t need it.

Mi’er opened her mouth to try to persuade him, then remembered she wasn’t allowed to speak. With no other choice, she obediently sat aside and ate on her own.

Then she watched as Xuanyuan Lige removed the object he’d been carrying on his back this entire time, resting it beneath his head, and slowly lay back. In the moonlight, clad in purple with silver hair, he looked exactly like an elven prince who had fallen into the grasslands — beautiful almost beyond belief.

Were it not for that cold, clear face, so pale it held not a trace of color, Mi’er might genuinely have wondered whether she was dreaming — a dream where she’d chanced upon a prince.

She could tell the young master’s health was fine — even after days of hard travel, even after going an entire day without eating or drinking, he showed no sign of fatigue at all. And yet, for some reason, his face was always so pale — if this had been their first meeting, she truly would have thought him ill.

At this moment, Xuanyuan Lige gazed up at the brilliant, star-filled sky, his cold, clear eyes so deep they seemed to hold an entire galaxy within them. Mi’er found herself staring, entranced, forgetting even her hunger.

What was the young master thinking?

Why did his gaze look so utterly different from anything she’d seen before?

But exactly how it was different, Mi’er didn’t dare look closely enough to say — afraid that if she ever truly met his eyes, she’d fall hopelessly, helplessly into them, unable to suppress the reckless urge stirring in her heart — the urge to understand him, to know everything about him!

And yet, for now, all she knew was that his name was Xuanyuan Lige, and that he seemed to be the ruler of the nation lying east of the Innocent Abyss.

Just as Mi’er sat entranced, Xuanyuan Lige suddenly sat up and slowly lifted away a white cloth wrap — only then did Mi’er see clearly that the object he’d always carried on his back was an ancient zither.

Mi’er was utterly astonished — she never would have guessed that someone so cold and aloof could also be so obsessed with music. A man who never parted from his instrument — if that wasn’t obsession bordering on madness, what was?

So… so there really was one thing in this world that this young master held close to his heart after all.

This zither, too, was a famous instrument, called Du You — a consolation prize of sorts, really. He truly couldn’t bear to be without a zither; as for the Demon Zheng, he was still searching for it, and had yet to find it.

Xuanyuan Lige sat cross-legged, setting the zither before him, his long, elegant fingers resting lightly on the strings, as if lost in thought, making no move for a long while.

Mi’er’s eyes went wide, unable to hide her anticipation — a man as breathtakingly beautiful as an immortal, surely the melody he played would be just as beautiful!

Mi’er waited, full of eager hope — but just then, Xuanyuan Lige suddenly turned slowly around, looking directly at her.

In that instant, Mi’er’s heart truly seemed to stop — the young master was looking at her! The young master was looking at her!

Young master — was he going to play, just for her?

“Keng…” Xuanyuan Lige raised his hand and struck the first note — and only then did Mi’er remember — that’s right… she could no longer hear.