In Xi Liang territory during October, fierce winds had already begun to howl, rolling dust and sand across the withered yellow grasslands, slowing the pace of travelers and horses.

This group of several dozen people included old and young, women and children. They drove carts piled high with belongings—tents and other household items. The elderly and women holding children also sat atop them, swaying back and forth.

The children weren’t as playful as usual, and the elders’ expressions were gloomy.

“The wind is too strong. Let’s find a place to settle here,” someone in the group shouted.

With these words came many cheers, but some raised objections.

“We should keep going a bit further.”

“This place still isn’t very safe.”

Those who objected were immediately surrounded by others. “We’ve already come so far—it’s safe enough!” “If we keep going, there won’t be any pasture!” “Do you want to go deep into the desert?”

The moving group erupted in argument, but the next moment the fierce wind howled, and mixed with the dust and sand came the sound of hoofbeats and shouting—shouting in a different tone from theirs—

“Thieves from Da Xia!”

“They’re here again!”

“They’ve chased us here!”

The group that had been arguing suddenly turned fearful. Both people and horses quickened their pace, not daring to stop for even a moment.

The elders clutched their children tightly, sitting on the swaying carts, looking back at the rising dust cloud and the increasingly distant grassland, tears streaming down their faces.

“Our king has been defeated. The thieves of Da Xia circle the grasslands. We are homeless and adrift, wandering without refuge.” They sang softly as they rushed out from this grassland and plunged into the wasteland—

The rolling dust cloud didn’t chase into the desert but stopped at its edge. As the dust settled, it revealed the forms of several dozen people wrapped in scarves, watching the fleeing group disappear into the desert with some regret.

“That tribe has quite a few people and looks quite wealthy.”

“Letting them go violates our mountain bandit creed.”

“Huh? We mountain bandits have a creed?”

“Bandits don’t leave empty-handed.”

Listening to the discussion, Mu Mianhong didn’t stop them but said, “Mountain bandits have another creed too.”

Everyone looked over.

Wrapped in a scarf with only her eyes visible, Mu Mianhong smiled slightly. “You can’t slaughter all the fat sheep.”

Everyone laughed. “The boss is right!” “Let’s fatten up the Xi Liang sheep even more!” “That way we can harvest crop after crop!” With their shouts and Mu Mianhong’s wave of her hand, they scattered to patrol this wilderness.

The smile faded from Mu Mianhong’s eyes, replaced by sorrow.

“Is something wrong?” A man beside her noticed and asked cautiously, then looked around vigilantly. After all, this was Xi Liang territory, and though the Prince of Xi Liang had been defeated, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse—

Mu Mianhong shook her head and looked around, a smile returning to her eyes. “General Chu had a wish to roam freely throughout Xi Liang territory.”

She hadn’t expected that today she would fulfill his wish.

The next moment, Mu Mianhong thought of something and her eyes lit up.

“I should dig up General Chu’s ashes and bring him here.”

The men who had been somewhat moved by Mu Mianhong’s words were suddenly alarmed. “Boss, if you do that, Zhong Changrong will fight us to the death!”

Mu Mianhong smiled. “Am I afraid of him?”

Indeed, the boss wasn’t afraid of Zhong Changrong, and for Chu Ling’s sake, she really would dare to do something crazy. The men’s minds raced to dissuade Mu Mianhong from this notion.

“That would make Miss Chu Zhao unhappy!” “General Chu has already become a heroic spirit—he might have long been roaming, no, patrolling Xi Liang territory!” “That’s right, Boss. You previously launched that surprise raid on the Xi Liang royal court—that was also something General Chu always wanted to do. Maybe he was right there with you then!”

The smile in Mu Mianhong’s eyes rippled like water, and she nodded. “You’re right.”

She looked around again, her gaze still melancholy, but she said no more about grave-digging. The men breathed sighs of relief and were about to say something else to change the subject when riders came galloping from behind.

“Boss,” they called. “A letter from Commander Zhong.”

Mu Mianhong took the letter and read it, the smile in her eyes deepening, then she sighed softly. “Chu Zhao is working too hard.”

“Should we divide our forces to assist Miss Chu Zhao?” the men around her asked.

Mu Mianhong glanced at the letter and shook her head. “Not for now. We’re still currently in Xi Liang territory. We need to make the Xi Liang people migrate even farther and never dare approach here again.”

The men acknowledged their orders.

“There’s more,” the messenger said. “While we were patrolling just now, we caught a merchant—a Da Xia merchant.”

Mu Mianhong looked over and asked, “How did a Da Xia merchant appear in Xi Liang territory?”

“He said he was captured and brought to Xi Liang, and now that Xi Liang has been defeated, he’s taking the opportunity to escape back home,” the messenger said. “But we found his movements very suspicious, so we prepared to bind him—”

They were mountain bandits, not Da Xia soldiers protecting the country and people. They could rob Xi Liang merchants and Da Xia merchants too—that’s what suited their identity—

“But unexpectedly, he suddenly committed suicide,” the messenger said.

As he spoke, a horse carrying a corpse walked over—a plump man dressed as a merchant.

Not fleeing or begging, but suicide? Mu Mianhong’s gaze sharpened. Using death to conceal secrets.

“Send him to Zhong Changrong,” she said. “Have him investigate this merchant’s background.”

Watching the mountain bandits responsible for delivering messages gallop away with the corpse, Mu Mianhong’s brows didn’t relax but became even more furrowed, her gaze turning toward the rear.

The peace negotiations had ended. The Prince of Xi Liang had led his troops away. The various Xi Liang tribes were all migrating. Nothing more should happen, right?

……

……

Dust clouds were also rising on the grasslands near the border, filled with sounds of slaughter.

Standing at the base of a hillside, Zhong Changrong felt as if he had returned to the time of battle against Xi Liang.

But now the war had clearly ended.

“General, the forces are greater than anticipated,” a personal guard hurried over and said in a low voice. “These are definitely royal troops.”

“General, the Prince of Xi Liang has indeed broken his word!” another guard said angrily.

“He’s not just launching a surprise attack,” one soldier said calmly. “They’ve also planted spies among us.”

That’s why Zhong Changrong, in a moment of impulse to travel light with few troops and inspect the new border, had encountered an ambush.

This location—Zhong Changrong himself didn’t know he would come here before he set out.

This ambush was steady and precise, as if they had placed an eye right behind them.

One soldier could no longer contain his anger. “Do the Xi Liang thieves think they can enter Da Xia this way?” He raised his blade with his uninjured hand. “They’re truly dreaming!”

The surrounding soldiers also burst into mocking laughter.

Zhong Changrong, who had been silent all along, suddenly smiled when he heard this.

“Perhaps they don’t want to enter Da Xia,” he said, his gaze darker than the night. “They just want to kill me.”

……

……

The person lay prone on the horse’s back, almost fused with the animal. Due to the arrow in his back, the scout’s consciousness was already somewhat blurred, unable to control the horse or direct its path.

But this wasn’t a problem. Having broken through the encirclement, the old horse knew the way and would bring him to the nearest garrison.

Da Xia forces had already been stationed in the newly recovered territories, with strict sentries.

Just one more ridge to cross—

But when he crested the ridge, he was greeted by a rain of arrows. The horse whinnied and fell. The person on its back didn’t even make a sound before tumbling to the ground. In his unclosed eyes was reflected the image of a dozen or so soldiers standing in a row on the ridge.

Da Xia soldiers.

……

……

Liang Qiang closed his eyes.

“This time, am I to let the wolf into the house again?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “Now I truly don’t know—is the person behind you really from Da Xia or not?”

Time and again harming Da Xia.

But it didn’t seem like Xi Liang people either, because the Xi Liang people didn’t benefit either.

Perhaps he should ask—was that person behind it all even human!

Like someone casually plucking zither strings, not caring how many deaths and injuries each note would cause.

The soldier smiled. “Colonel Liang, this time is for you—to let you save the situation and restore your glory.”

Liang Qiang looked at him woodenly. “When do I go save the situation?”

The soldier said, “After Zhong Changrong dies.”