In the vast tent, dead silence reigned. Everyone present, save for Baili Weisheng, sat with faces tense and drawn.
This time, the King of Nanzhao hadn’t brought them hope—instead, he’d brought despair.
“I don’t believe it!”
Suddenly, Ziqing snapped, striding forward in a few sharp steps, startling the King of Nanzhao so badly he spun around and shrank back. “Han Ziqing, what do you want from me? This king has told you everything he knows, and this king has promised that once your forces withdraw, this king will personally announce the truth of the lonely island to the world and apologize in person—what more do you want!”
Faced with Ziqing bearing down on him, the King of Nanzhao was both panicked and furious, wanting nothing more than to summon the Beast Clan chief and the Poison Elder inside to protect him!
Still, he didn’t want things to escalate any further, and Ziqing, held back by Jun Beiyue, stopped in her advance as well.
If you asked Ziqing what she actually intended to do to the King of Nanzhao, even she wouldn’t have known how to answer!
Her mind was a complete blank in that moment, thinking of nothing at all, truly!
Jue Mingzi and the others rose to their feet as well, afraid Ziqing might do something rash. Having pushed the King of Nanzhao this far, everyone understood well enough that if it actually came to war, Da Zhou wouldn’t come out ahead either!
Besides, the true purpose behind declaring this war in the first place had never been war for its own sake—it had been for the lonely island!
Seeing Ziqing held back, the King of Nanzhao’s heart, which had been hanging in his throat, finally settled, and he let out a great sigh of relief. “Consort Yao, this king… this king understands how you must feel. If… if there’s anything at all we can do to help, the Nanzhao royal family will do everything in its power—consider it… consider it compensation for the lonely island.”
As he spoke, he seized the chance to retreat, backing toward the tent entrance, clearly intending to make his escape.
Jun Beiyue glanced at him, a flicker of contempt in his eyes, and said coldly, “King of Nanzhao, announce the truth of the lonely island to the world first, and offer your apology. Otherwise, this king will not withdraw his troops.”
“This…” The King of Nanzhao choked, having just said he’d withdraw troops first.
“Whenever the Nanzhao royal family makes its public apology, that’s when this king will withdraw. Someone, see the King of Nanzhao out.” Jun Beiyue said coldly, pulling Ziqing protectively against him, keeping the woman from rushing forward to commit murder.
He knew—she wasn’t angry. She was despairing.
But killing the King of Nanzhao now would accomplish nothing, only stirring up the fury of Nanzhao’s other clans.
Let the King of Nanzhao go home, and the royal family’s rule would collapse under its own people’s rebellion soon enough anyway.
With guards already stepping forward, what choice did the King of Nanzhao have? The moment he’d come here personally to sue for peace, he should have known he’d have no room to argue. Fuming, he had no choice but to storm off.
The moment the King of Nanzhao left, Ziqing began to laugh, laughing while shaking her head, a bitter, hollow smile on her face!
In the quiet camp, only the sound of Ziqing’s laughter rang out, so utterly desolate.
Jun Beiyue held her, saying nothing.
“Silly fool, let go of me. I won’t do anything rash.” Ziqing said flatly. How could she possibly do something so foolish, how could she possibly lay a hand on the King of Nanzhao!
She understood better than anyone what disaster would befall Da Zhou if this war dragged on, if Nanzhao threw everything it had into the fight!
She understood better than anyone that this time, Jun Beiyue had staked everything, even the entire realm, for her sake!
This battle, reckless as it looked on the surface, had actually been played with the utmost caution by Jun Beiyue—forcing the King of Nanzhao to come sue for peace today was already the greatest victory they could have hoped for!
Just as the King of Nanzhao himself had said, even a dog would leap over a wall if pushed too far.
Everything had unfolded exactly as they’d planned, only, of all things, the final result had turned out to be something entirely beyond their expectations—more precisely, something they hadn’t anticipated at all.
Watching Ziqing still able to laugh, Jun Beiyue found himself too heartbroken to speak.
This woman, grieving to the utmost, despairing to the utmost, could never manage to cry—and yet somehow, she could still laugh.
What was he supposed to do with her?
He hated seeing a woman cry more than anything—and yet, at times like this, he genuinely wished he could get this particular woman to cry her heart out.
Jun Beiyue said nothing, and everyone else around them fell silent too.
Everyone understood the gravity of what this meant. Xuanyuan Lige was gone; no one could master the blood zheng, no one was as intimately familiar with “Parting Sorrow” as he had been. Without “Parting Sorrow” being played, they’d never uncover the secret the musician had left behind for later generations, never learn the location of the lonely island.
And the Nanzhao royal family didn’t know the island’s location either—which meant, in other words, that no one left in this world knew where the lonely island was anymore!
No one knew how much time had passed before Ziqing finally said flatly, “Let’s all go back…”
“Mother!” Xiong Xiaobao finally couldn’t hold back. Going back meant giving up.
“No! I’ll go look for it myself. If what the King of Nanzhao said is true, there can’t be many islands reachable within a month’s sailing—I refuse to believe I can’t find it if I search every single one!” Madam Jinjiao stood up.
Ziqing kept her head down, saying nothing, and Jun Beiyue said nothing either, but he knew—at this point, the King of Nanzhao wouldn’t have any reason to lie. The lonely island was an island reachable within a month, and now it couldn’t be found—something must have happened to it, all those years ago.
Only, that secret from the past, even the royal family’s own descendants no longer knew.
In the end, everything still traced back to what lay hidden within “Parting Sorrow.”
Seeing neither Jun Beiyue nor Ziqing offer an answer, Madam Jinjiao resolved to go all in as well, immediately heading out to search the seas herself!
“Let’s go back…”
Ziqing said flatly once more, pulling free from Jun Beiyue’s arms and turning to walk slowly away.
Jun Beiyue didn’t follow, and neither did Xiong Xiaobao—at a time like this, it was better to let Ziqing have some time alone, in quiet.
“Elder Jue, how does one master the blood zheng?” Jun Beiyue asked seriously.
At those words, Jue Mingzi started. “You…”
“I want to learn ‘Parting Sorrow.'” Jun Beiyue said calmly. If, in the end, the secret still had to be found within “Parting Sorrow,” if it was fated that someone had to play the duet alongside Ziqing, then let it be him.
It was nothing more than musical skill, after all—was there anything in this world that could truly stump him, Jun Beiyue?
“Beiyue! This is far too dangerous!” Situ Haonan couldn’t help but object. Even though none of them understood the qin, understood “Parting Sorrow,” understood the blood zheng, they all knew that the demonic zheng bonded to the blood of its master!
They’d all witnessed with their own eyes how Xuanyuan Lige’s blood had stained the blood zheng—that instrument had long since become one with him. To master it now would surely demand a heavy price!
Jue Mingzi had originally meant to say something more, but the words caught in his throat, and in the end all he offered Jun Beiyue was two words: “It won’t work.”
“It’ll work whether it works or not! If Ziqing ever finds out about this, this king won’t spare anyone!” Jun Beiyue said coldly, leaving those words behind, and shot Xiong Xiaobao a warning glance before turning to leave.
Xiong Xiaobao was nearly in tears, clutching at Baili Weisheng beside him, pressing his lips together over and over, forcing himself not to cry!
Baili Weisheng, however, sat with his brow furrowed. What had he just heard—blood zheng?
Blood zheng, blood zheng… why did that name feel so familiar?
It seemed as though there were something very important connected to the blood zheng. Baili Weisheng’s brow furrowed tighter and tighter, straining to remember, straining—but in vain, his head began to ache again, and still he couldn’t recall it.
He silently resolved—tonight, he wouldn’t sleep. He’d keep trying to remember, no matter how much it hurt!