The reason Xiong Xiaobao had shown up so late was that he’d been busy packing all sorts of good things into the Cosmic Poison Pouch. Lately, the beast-raising space within the pouch hadn’t expanded any further — instead, he’d ended up developing quite a few small storage compartments.

At the moment, some ten-odd little compartments were absolutely stuffed full — no wonder it was so heavy! The Cosmic Poison Pouch tucked in his sleeve was practically weighing him down.

Storing poisonous beasts in the pouch never added any weight, but storing other items definitely did add some.

Of course, all of this he’d figured out entirely on his own — his father and mother had no idea about any of it.

He was still mulling over whether he could develop a space specifically for hiding a person.

That way, he could stash Uncle Baili inside it.

All of this stayed locked away in Xiong Xiaobao’s head — he said nothing about it, quietly entertaining himself, already laughing to himself inside.

“Is it because he’s wearing more clothes?” Jun Beiyue muttered to himself, then, without dwelling on it further, scooped Xiong Bao up and climbed into the carriage.

“Where’s Baili Weisheng?” Ziqing asked again — still not everyone accounted for?

At those words, Baili Weisheng, curled up inside the carriage, immediately brightened, a smile curving at the corner of his mouth — he’d known his little Qingqing cared about him.

“No need to wait,” Jun Beiyue said lazily, tossing out the line without much thought.

Baili Weisheng’s eyes narrowed sharply — but before he could react, Madam Jinjiao chimed in at once. “Best if he doesn’t come at all!”

Baili Weisheng pursed his lips, exchanged a glance with Baili Xiaosheng, and continued to say nothing, keeping his expression neutral.

Then came Ziqing’s response, and all she said was, “Oh…”

That was it?

Baili Weisheng’s eyes went wide, and Baili Xiaosheng’s eyes went wide right along with him.

Sure enough, he’d been completely ignored.

Outside the carriage, Ziqing was saying her goodbyes to Hongyi.

They’d only just been reunited, and already they had to part again. Regrettably, with the dangers of this journey entirely unknown, it truly wasn’t wise for Hongyi to come along.

“Your Highness, if I came along, I’d only be a burden. This servant will wait for you all to return at the residence,” Hongyi said, ever so understanding.

Ziqing said nothing for a moment, then pressed something into her hand.

The moment Hongyi saw it, she was startled. “Your Highness!”

“Shh… keep it safe,” Ziqing said quietly.

“Your Highness, this… this object… no, this servant cannot accept it!” Hongyi was resolute. The weight of what she held in her hand — even with ten lives, she couldn’t shoulder that kind of responsibility!

“Since when have you become such a coward? This is meant for you, and it’s meant for this entire residence too. Remember, guard it well, and wait for us to come home,” Ziqing said earnestly.

Home…

Yes — she’d always been searching for a home, and Prince Yao’s residence truly was the home she’d been searching for!

Now, the Isolated Isle meant more to her than mere family ties — it had become a responsibility too. She was determined to uncover the whole truth, determined to cry out for justice on behalf of the Isolated Isle’s people, trapped for three hundred years, for the massacre of that year, cry out for justice before the entire world!

Ziqing squeezed Hongyi’s hand tightly, then let go, and without saying goodbye, without looking back, walked away.

Watching the carriage disappear into the distance, until even its shadow had vanished from sight, Hongyi finally, slowly opened her clenched fist. A dark-iron scorpion-shaped ring lay quietly in her palm.

This was the symbol of Da Zhou’s Prince Yao! The symbol of Da Zhou’s highest authority, the symbol of command over Da Zhou’s entire military!

To see this ring was to see Prince Yao himself!

Hongyi clenched her fist tight around it, silently vowing to herself — no matter how far, no matter how long her masters traveled, she would absolutely, without fail, guard this home for them until they returned.

Flame Mountain in West Liang lay west of the Da Zhou capital. Ziqing and the others were also rushing toward West Jing’s capital — but for now, they weren’t heading west at all, but north.

There was activity brewing in the Three Realms Territory, both from the Xiongnu and East Qin, though what exactly it was remained unclear. Jun Beiyue and Ziqing decided to take a detour through the Three Realms Territory to investigate, then swing through the small town of Mobei before entering West Jing.

“Yingzi has already found someone — a native of Mobei town,” Jun Beiyue said flatly.

Though there’d been delays along the way, he’d already been preparing well in advance for the trip to Flame Valley in West Liang. Flame Valley was unlike anywhere else — potentially even more dangerous than West Jing’s deserts.

They knew very little about the terrain, the landscape, and the climate of that region.

Even after extensive inquiry and investigation, they still only knew the surface of things. West Liang’s territory was nothing but barren stone mountains where not a blade of grass grew, and even soil was a rare sight.

Desolation stretched everywhere — nothing but stone mountains, and beyond them, nothing but rubble and rock.

Flame Valley itself lay hidden deep within West Liang’s barren mountains, and records of this valley were exceedingly scarce. Beyond its rough location, Jun Beiyue’s group knew essentially nothing about it.

They needed to find someone intimately familiar with West Liang’s terrain, someone who knew Flame Valley well.

“Someone from Mobei? How would they know anything about West Liang?” Ziqing asked, confused.

“Mobei sits right at the junction of West Jing, West Liang, and the Xiongnu territories. The people of Mobei are descendants of refugees who fled those three nations during the wars of years past. Finding a guide from there is safer than finding someone from West Liang itself. Besides, knowing West Liang isn’t the key issue — knowing Flame Valley is what matters,” Jun Beiyue explained.

Ziqing nodded thoughtfully. Jun Beiyue really was the clever one — she’d only been thinking about the region of Mobei itself, while Jun Beiyue had set his sights on the people of Mobei instead, whose knowledge, passed down through generations, was bound to run deep.

The carriages continued rolling north. But beneath the calm surface of the north at this moment, turbulent forces were already stirring.

The mysterious, massive project within the Innocent Abyss had long since been completed.

By now, Xuanyuan Lige had already left the boundless deep sea, emerging from the tunnel at the midpoint of the cliffs above the Innocent Abyss.

As for whatever he’d encountered, whatever had happened to him in the boundless deep sea — only he himself knew.

At this moment, he was walking west along the tunnel alongside Minhan Mudeer, the newly enthroned Xiongnu king.

“Absolutely astonishing. Ha, Xuanyuan Lige, this king is thoroughly impressed with you!” Minhan Mudeer said, genuinely delighted. When Xuanyuan Lige had first come to persuade him, he’d honestly harbored a fair bit of doubt — but now, seeing everything laid out before him, he was thoroughly, completely convinced!

Facing Minhan Mudeer’s excitement, Xuanyuan Lige remained expressionless, personally leading the way and guiding him out through the eastern cliff exit.

The moment they emerged from the tunnel, they were met with the sight of several suspension bridges swaying in the crosswind ahead.

The bridges spanned the Innocent Abyss, leading to the western cliff face.

“We’re crossing from here?” Minhan Mudeer exclaimed. The bridges themselves weren’t the frightening part — what was frightening was the crosswind. Without a certain level of skill, crossing would be simply impossible!

Xuanyuan Lige planned to send his Sound-Killing Army through here, into West Chu’s territory — wasn’t that a bit too reckless?

This wasn’t just a handful of people, after all — it was an entire army!

“What, are you afraid?” Xuanyuan Lige asked, raising an eyebrow.

Minhan Mudeer didn’t even bother answering, disdainful, simply leaping forward and skimming across the suspension bridge over the Innocent Abyss, landing on the opposite cliff.

“This king is worried for the sake of your Sound-Killing Army,” Minhan Mudeer said coldly.

Xuanyuan Lige’s Sound-Killing Army numbered at least three or four thousand strong, and with additional forces on top of that, getting them across the Innocent Abyss in a short span of time and appearing suddenly within West Chu’s territory would be no small feat.

“If my soldiers can’t even manage to cross a single bridge, how could they possibly defeat the enemy and reclaim the kingdom?” Xuanyuan Lige shot back.

South of the northern frontier highlands lay Da Zhou territory; north of it, Xiongnu land — both entirely hemmed in by Jun Beiyue’s restrictions.

His forces were few, but elite — this was the only path forward.

With elite troops and swift, unexpected strikes, he intended to win the battle — and until West Chu was firmly in hand, he had no wish to openly provoke Jun Beiyue’s military strength!

He wanted that man to understand: having both the realm and the woman was never going to be as easy as he thought!