“Young Master, His Highness and Her Highness went to rescue the others first. His Highness only left instructions to prepare for war—maybe once they’ve rescued them, they’ll come straight back,” Yingzi hurried to reassure him.

“Isn’t this a bit too risky? Does that really mean no one can play ‘Parting Sorrow’ at all anymore?” Madam Jinjiao asked anxiously, while Jue Mingzi sat off to the side, puffing hard on his pipe, saying nothing.

“Madam Jinjiao, rest assured, the master always has a sense of proportion in how he handles things,” Yingzi urged again—in truth, he was anxious too.

He’d only meant to ask everyone for their thoughts, and instead found himself being grilled from all sides.

The master had said nothing more than “prepare for war”—as for exactly how to prepare, no one had any idea.

“What exactly did my father say about preparing for war?” Xiong Xiaobao asked.

At that question, Yingzi was caught on the spot, and answered timidly, “Just… just that the entire southern border should prepare for war.”

“That’s it?” Jue Mingzi was startled, unable to hold back.

Yingzi could only nod. He’d decided to relay the words verbatim to the various generals—as for what “preparing for war” actually meant in practice, what would a mere shadow guard like him know?

Just then, Xiong Xiaobao suddenly stood up abruptly and declared loudly, “I’ll handle this!”

At those words, everyone looked at him with plain skepticism.

Xiong Xiaobao, your father was already leading armies into battle before you were even a twinkle in anyone’s eye—and now you want to command his troops?

“Young Master, perhaps we should think this through more carefully?” Yingzi coaxed gently.

Xiong Xiaobao ignored him entirely, holding out his hand. “The token!”

“Young Master, this doesn’t seem wise.” Yingzi broke out in a cold sweat.

“Are you refusing to obey my order? Are you planning to rebel?” Xiong Xiaobao said, perfectly serious, utterly by the book.

No matter how Yingzi felt about it, he was still a servant at heart, and dared not defy Xiong Xiaobao’s direct order. He had no choice but to hand over the token!

Once he had the token in hand, Xiong Xiaobao weighed it in his palm, gave a satisfied little laugh, and said, “Grandma Jinjiao, how about I assign you a task?”

Madam Jinjiao, seeing Xiong Xiaobao acting so much like a proper commander, replied with interest, “I’m all ears.”

“Grandma Jinjiao, you’ll take charge of guarding Da Zhou’s entire coastline—from the southern border in the south, all the way up to Dongqin in the north. How does that sound?” Xiong Xiaobao said earnestly.

At those words, everyone was astonished—this kid really had something to him!

He’d thought of the coastline first, of all things!

Once things kicked off with Nanzhao, the Nanzhao Jiao Clan would be more than any navy could withstand—but if the Jinjiao clan were the ones guarding the coastline, then which side the merfolk would ultimately favor became a much less certain question!

Madam Jinjiao immediately gave a thumbs up. “No mongrel pup from a tiger’s litter, indeed! Kid, you’re impressive! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the coastline.”

Xiong Xiaobao laughed, then turned to Yingzi. “Guard Yingzi, have the shadow guards assigned to handle military intelligence reports. This is important—make sure it goes to people you trust completely.”

Yingzi looked utterly stunned. The young master, so small, had never even experienced war before—how did he know so much!

Ignoring Yingzi’s astonishment, Xiong Xiaobao continued his coordination. “Send word to the Northern Tiger Army at once, have them prepare themselves. While the southern border is in turmoil, they must reinforce their defenses, ensuring the north stays stable, so the south has nothing to worry about from behind!”

Yingzi nodded repeatedly, looking at the young master standing so tall and composed, so at ease—and suddenly felt as though he were looking at his master’s own youth.

Except, the young master’s starting point was so, so much higher than his father’s had ever been.

Heaven only knew what kind of extraordinary figure this young master would grow up to be!

He could only hope this easygoing, cheerful, playful temperament of his would never change.

Xiong Xiaobao paused, then continued, “Yingzi, write a letter to Auntie Qianqian and the others, and have them keep an eye on movements in the Xichu region. If necessary, we may need to request their support. Xichu and the Xiongnu may already be destroyed, but their remnants haven’t been entirely wiped out—we can’t rule out the chance they’ll try to seize the opportunity while the southern border is in chaos! The battle Father’s about to fight against Nanzhao will be a tough one, and can’t afford any distractions. This so-called ‘preparation for war’ really just means making sure there’s nothing left to worry about from any other direction!”

Xiong Xiaobao spoke with such seriousness that Yingzi, Jue Mingzi, and the others found themselves listening with rapt attention despite themselves.

Heavens, this child was barely six years old, always giggling and carefree with no sense of decorum—and yet the moment he turned serious, there was so much substance behind it!

“Yes! This subordinate will see to it at once!” Yingzi immediately accepted the order, not daring to question it any further.

Even if all his father had given him was the single phrase “prepare for war” to hand off to Da Zhou’s generals and its three tiger commanders, this was likely exactly what they themselves would have arrived at anyway!

After Yingzi and Madam Jinjiao left, only Jue Mingzi, Meng Duo’er, and Baili Weisheng remained in the room.

Yet no one had noticed that the moment Baili Weisheng heard the name “Qianqian,” something had shifted in his expression.

“Grandfather, you need to stay at the front lines. This battle is different from all the others—we’re facing not just the Beast Army, but the Poison Clan’s toxic forces as well. The army physicians aren’t familiar with treating beast wounds or poison injuries, so I’d like you to lead that effort.” Jue Mingzi nodded immediately, his heart swelling with pride—he’d never imagined that in this lifetime he’d have a grandson like this, one who, rather than living a passive, sheltered life because of his poison-immune body, had instead lived so vibrantly, so remarkably.

What could possibly bring him more comfort than this?

Thinking back on how Jun Beiyue and Ziqing had treated the matter of the Gu-body, and then reflecting on himself, Jue Mingzi felt deeply ashamed.

He was determined to help Ziqing however he could—it was, in a way, an answer he owed to Muci. He had let Muci down, but their daughter, he had not.

Jue Mingzi too took his leave to carry out his task, leaving only Meng Duo’er and Baili Weisheng behind.

“Meng Duo’er.” Xiong Xiaobao said flatly.

“Here!” Meng Duo’er stepped forward at once. Though she always felt it was rather disrespectful for this boy to address her so directly by name, she’d long since given up any chance to object.

“You can only cast up to five barriers in a single day, correct?” Xiong Xiaobao asked.

Meng Duo’er was taken aback—she’d never told anyone that. “How do you know that?”

“Just answer—yes or no?” Xiong Xiaobao pressed, very serious.

“Yes!” Meng Duo’er had no choice but to answer honestly.

“You’ll guard the gate.” Xiong Xiaobao seemed to have already worked everything out, saying it without a second thought.

“Guard the gate!” Meng Duo’er looked utterly baffled. “Kid, what do you mean?”

“I’m the commanding general right now. Mind how you address me,” Xiong Xiaobao said very sternly.

Meng Duo’er rolled her eyes repeatedly, but seeing his young face so full of gravity, she somehow found herself, against her better judgment, softening her tone. “Guard what gate?”

“The southern border gate. If I’m not mistaken, Father has no intention of letting a single Nanzhao soldier cross the border! Even if it comes to fighting, we’ll be the ones taking the fight to Nanzhao—we will absolutely not let Nanzhao’s beast army or poison lords harm a single one of Da Zhou’s people!”

Meng Duo’er only half-understood. She wasn’t stupid, but she wasn’t especially sharp either, and when it came to unfamiliar territory, she genuinely couldn’t work things out quickly.

Without realizing when the habit had started, in moments of confusion she found herself instinctively turning to look at Baili Weisheng.

Unfortunately, at that moment Baili Weisheng sat with his head lowered, and heaven only knew what he was thinking—whether he’d even been listening to any of this at all!

This wretched scholar—could it be that losing his memory had really rendered him this useless?