After Liu Jian proclaimed himself emperor and established his capital at Datong, in these past few years, to guard against Li Mu’s Northern Expedition, he designated Yanmen as the first line of defense. Hunyuan Prefecture to the north of Yanmen and south of Datong served as the second defensive line, where they also prepared armor and weapons, and stockpiled grain and horses.

According to his original plan, this time he was to join forces with Murong Ti at Yanmen to eliminate Li Mu at the first line of defense. Unexpectedly, while Murong Ti’s troops were still on the road, in the middle of the night, Li Mu appeared before the fortress like divine soldiers descending from heaven.

The entire Xiongnu camp, from Liu Jian down to the common soldiers, was completely unprepared for this. Though Liu Jian hastily rushed to command the defense, it was already too late. The Xiongnu soldiers, awakened from their sleep, hurriedly rushed to the fortress and struggled to resist wave after wave of fierce enemy attacks. Meanwhile, in the direction of the barracks, towering flames erupted into the sky.

What little fighting spirit remained was completely burned away by this great fire.

The situation was lost. Liu Jian knew that continuing to defend Yanmen would likely result in the complete annihilation of his entire army. Now he could only settle for second best – abandon Yanmen, retreat north to Hunyuan Prefecture, regroup there with Murong Ti, and then plan for battle.

At dawn, the raging fire that had burned for nearly half the night finally died out.

Li Mu’s battle robe was covered with traces left by bloody combat. As he led his soldiers through the fortress, Xiongnu blood continued to drip down from the gaps in the armor plates on his shoulders.

Within the fortress, vast stretches of connected camps had turned to scorched earth. Amidst the ruins and broken walls, wisps of smoke continuously rose. Along the road leading to Datong, the capital of the Western Liang kingdom, abandoned boots and weapons left behind by fleeing Xiongnu were scattered everywhere. Corpses lay piled like hills in all directions, and the thick, bloody smell drifted on the wind, permeating every corner, testifying to the fierce battle that had taken place in this location during the night that had just passed.

Several days later, Liu Jian finally escaped to Hunyuan. Before he could catch his breath, he reorganized his remaining troops and assembled the remaining forces originally stationed there. He deployed his forces around Luanling Pass, preparing to defend against Li Mu’s second attack while anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Northern Yan army.

According to the intelligence he had received previously, on the very day Li Mu launched his surprise attack on Yanmen, Murong Ti’s army had already reached the Zijing Pass area. After receiving his urgent message, they should have changed course to come here. Based on the distance calculations, they would definitely arrive within three to four days at most.

Throughout the entire day, scouts came and went from Liu Jian’s command tent like a revolving lantern, but the news they brought made him fly into a rage.

Li Mu’s army had already caught up and was only a hundred li from Hunyuan. At the latest, they would arrive within one or two days.

But the awaited Northern Yan army was nowhere to be seen.

Murong Ti had clearly passed Zijing Pass and arrived at Black Stone Ridge yesterday, only one or two days’ journey from here. For some unknown reason, he had suddenly stopped there and hadn’t advanced another step.

“Clang—” A gold-inlaid copper pot was heavily smashed to the ground, immediately denting it, and the wine inside spilled everywhere.

The weather had already turned cold, and no warming brazier was lit in the tent, yet Liu Jian was bare-chested, his entire body steaming with hot sweat. His eyes were bloodshot from the wine, and he paced back and forth incessantly. His angry roars could be heard clearly even by the soldiers outside the tent.

“Li Mu is about to catch up, and he’s not coming anymore?”

His subordinate generals and officers stood around him, but not one dared to speak.

Curses and abuse poured continuously from his mouth.

Just moments before, while he waited with eager anticipation, the latest news had arrived.

Murong Ti had learned that Murong Xi, whom he had thought dead years ago, was still alive. Not only was he alive, but he had also secretly colluded with the escaped Xianbei nobles and was very likely planning to take advantage of this opportunity to make a comeback and plot rebellion.

Murong Ti’s entire plan was thus completely disrupted.

Several days earlier, when he learned that Li Mu had taken Yanmen before his own arrival and that the Xiongnu had been forced to retreat to the Hunyuan area, he seemed to catch a whiff of ominous portent once again. The subsequent news about Murong Xi made him even more uneasy.

For this battle, he had mobilized almost all the troops he could deploy. Not to mention Longcheng, the ancestral seat of the Murong clan, even the national capital Yan Prefecture now had an empty rear guard.

If his uncle was truly still alive, with such an opportunity presented before him, how could he let it pass?

Based on Murong Ti’s judgment, Murong Xi’s chosen method of revenge would very likely be to take advantage of his absence and the vulnerability of the rear to emerge and seize control.

He wouldn’t engage in direct confrontation with himself, at least not currently. Even with the support of the Helou clan and other tribes, those people were weak and isolated, completely unable to contend with the army he possessed.

For Murong Ti, the choice wasn’t difficult.

Day and night, though he longed constantly to defeat and kill that southerner named Li Mu, he was even more aware that once he lost the rear, he would truly lose his chance for revenge forever—without stable support from the rear, what would he use to control this massive army that could still be gathered and commanded by him?

He couldn’t take this risk, even if the possibility was small.

Murong Ti’s decision received tacit approval from the Xianbei generals accompanying the army.

The only question he was asked concerned Murong Zhe.

The questioner was a member of the Murong clan serving as a general with the army.

Murong Ti gazed toward the direction he had originally intended to go, and in his mind appeared the image from many years ago, when he still maintained the dignity befitting a prince. In the ice and snow, out of momentary compassion, he had secretly passed food to her, and she had looked at him with such grateful eyes.

But in the end, even this sister who had been most loyal to him had also betrayed him.

Murong Ti was silent for a moment, then said lightly: “The princess is clever and adaptable, she will surely be able to protect herself.”

That very night, Murong Ti ordered the entire army to break camp and return east overnight, rushing back to Yan Prefecture at top speed.

The Xianbei soldiers who had inexplicably remained here for a day didn’t know the reason for the emperor’s sudden decision to return. But not having to march forward to face Li Mu’s army in direct combat again—almost everyone viewed this outcome favorably. No one complained about the hardship of traveling through the night, and that very night, the army turned around and headed east along the route they had come.

Three days later, Murong Ti returned to Zijing Pass, from which he had departed westward.

Guarding Zijing Pass was his trusted confidant. Beyond Zijing Pass lay territory belonging to Great Yan, and to Murong Ti himself.

After three consecutive days of forced marching, the soldiers were all exhausted. Seeing the pass tower ahead in the distance, they finally regained some spirit, hoping to cross the pass and get some early rest tonight.

Murong Ti was no less weary than his soldiers.

The news that Murong Xi was still alive and might return had left him mentally disturbed. Over the past three days, he had barely slept at all, and by now his eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion.

He was anxious to bring his army back to Yan Prefecture to ensure his rear was secure, but he also knew the soldiers were beginning to show dissatisfaction with this day-and-night marching with only brief rests. Seeing Zijing Pass approaching and that it was getting late, with everything appearing normal and no news received of Murong Xi threatening Yan Prefecture or Longcheng, he considered briefly and ordered someone to call for the gates to be opened, planning to make camp here for the night and continue the journey tomorrow morning.

The pass tower drew nearer and nearer. In the twilight, the gates were tightly closed. Murong Ti could see clearly that not a single guard was visible on the city walls.

He sensed something was wrong. That persistent feeling of foreboding that had never left him surged forth again.

He immediately ordered the army behind him to halt and sent men alone to approach and call for the gates to be opened. After calling for some time, there was no response from within, and still no one appeared on the tower.

The sense of ill omen grew stronger.

Murong Ti was about to order the army to turn around and leave this place when suddenly drum beats sounded from ahead. On the tower, a crowd of soldiers suddenly appeared, lined up along the battlements. All were dressed as Xianbei, and from among them stepped forward a figure in armor—tall and imposing, wearing a helmet topped with a red plume that danced in the wind. From afar, it looked like a cluster of bright red flame, and the entire figure appeared magnificent and awe-inspiring.

Below the fortress, countless gazes turned toward that person. At first there was silence, then gradually, as if someone recognized him but dared not believe it, they began whispering to each other, causing a stir.

Helou also appeared on the city wall, standing beside Murong Xi, and shouted: “Warriors! Open your eyes wide and look carefully—who is this person beside me on the city wall!”

“He is your Heavenly King! He did not die, but was harmed by traitors who deceived you with lies!”

His gaze fell upon Murong Ti mounted on horseback below the tower. He suddenly raised his hand, pointing down, and cried harshly: “That traitor is Murong Ti! The one you now call Your Majesty—he used treacherous schemes to harm the Heavenly King. Fortunately, Heaven opened its eyes, and the Heavenly King was not killed by this traitor. Now he has returned!”

After a brief silence, the commotion before the pass tower intensified.

News spread from one to ten, ten to a hundred. As if to see more clearly, the soldiers in front all pushed forward.

Murong Xi removed the helmet from his head, allowing everyone to see his features more clearly. His eyes swept around the crowd as he declared loudly: “You are not mistaken—I, Murong Xi, am not dead, and today I have returned!”

“Among you, those willing to return and follow me may enter the gates! Follow me, and there will be no windfall wealth to be gained hereafter! But I will lead you back to our old home in Longcheng, where you can marry, have children, and live in peace!”

Below the tower, the Xianbei soldiers’ discussions grew louder.

These men had originally joined the military for wealth and women, naturally. After fighting for so many years, many had gradually come to understand clearly that no matter how enticing a future their leaders had initially described, in each battle, it was lowly soldiers like them who died, with limited gains, while those who truly profited most were the Xianbei nobles who never had to fight and the military officers with higher ranks than theirs. As time passed, many also came to miss their homeland and hope to return early to live peaceful lives.

As Murong Xi’s words ended, the two gates at his feet slowly opened before the crowd, finally opening completely.

The sound of discussion buzzed again, and suddenly a soldier pushed through the crowd, running toward the gate while shouting: “I’ve long been tired of fighting! I’m willing to serve the Heavenly King and return to Longcheng with him!”

Murong Ti sat motionless on horseback, slightly tilting his head upward, gazing in a trance-like state at Murong Xi’s figure on the tower.

One of his trusted subordinates, seeing this, harshly rebuked the deserting soldier and raised his bow, aiming at the back of the soldier running toward the gate. Just as he was about to release the arrow, a powerful arrow whistled down from the city wall like lightning, piercing his chest. The man swayed, lost his balance, clutched his chest, and toppled head-first from his horse.

“Those who wish to return with me to our old home in Longcheng, enter freely! Those unwilling to follow me who still wish to serve Murong Ti, I will not force! But whoever dares obstruct those entering will meet this fate!”

Murong Xi’s voice echoed before the pass tower. Standing atop the city wall, he appeared godlike and imposing.

After the previous defeat at Luoyang, Murong Ti’s prestige had fallen, and the soldiers, weary from constant marching back and forth, were already dissatisfied with Murong Ti. With this sudden turn of events, after a brief moment of silence below, people quickly began imitating that soldier, shouting Murong Xi’s former title of Heavenly King and competing to break ranks and rush toward the tower.

“By the Heavenly King’s decree, whoever kills Murong Ti will be rewarded with ten thousand taels of gold and appointed as commander of a thousand cavalry!”

Accompanied by urgent drumbeats, a cavalry unit suddenly poured out from within the gates. Murong Xi personally led the charge, galloping toward Murong Ti across the field.

Many Xianbei soldiers, seeing this, turned their weapons around and followed Murong Xi, charging toward Murong Ti’s position.

The situation quickly spiraled out of control.

The great banner standing behind Murong Ti fell. Murong Ti, struck by arrows, retreated under the desperate protection of his loyal guards, fleeing southward.

…

Li Mu’s Northern Expedition was unstoppable. Not long before, at Luanling Pass in Hunyuan Prefecture, he had completely defeated the main Western Liang Xiongnu forces, marched straight to Datong, and conquered the Western Liang capital. Liu Jian fled north beyond the passes with his last remaining troops, and the entire northern Bingzhou thus came under Li Mu’s rule.

Moreover, in the north, Great Yan of the Xianbei had also undergone dramatic changes. It was said that Murong Xi had returned from the dead to seek revenge. At Zijing Pass, the rank-and-file Xianbei soldiers had mutinied. Murong Ti’s whereabouts were unknown—killed in the chaos—and Murong Xi had once again become emperor of Northern Yan.

The northern situation changed dramatically, and news quickly reached Jiankang.

But today’s Jiankang was no longer what it once was. After Rong Kang led troops into Jiankang, he proclaimed himself Grand Preceptor and, under the pretext of assisting the young emperor in governance, moved into Jiankang Palace. There he indulged in pleasures and did as he pleased. Under the guise of funding military expenses to quell Li Mu’s rebellion, he forced all court officials and noble clans to contribute gold, silver, and precious goods. Those found concealing wealth were beaten and killed without hesitation. Everyone lived as if in deep water and scorching fire, barely surviving under the oppressive reign of terror.

When news of Murong Ti’s death in the chaos reached Rong Kang’s ears, it was midnight, yet the imperial palace was still brilliantly lit with wine and debauchery. Rong Kang, embracing disheveled beauties and indulging in lustful pleasures, was stunned for a moment upon hearing the news, then threw back his head and laughed heartily. He leaped up from his seat and paced back and forth several times in excitement.

“Grand Preceptor, the Empress Dowager requests your presence.”

At that moment, a palace servant carefully entered, knelt, and spoke.

Rong Kang’s eyes flickered. After a moment’s thought, he turned and headed toward the palace where Gao Yongrong resided.

…

Gao Yongrong’s face was covered with a thick layer of powder, her makeup exquisite, but even the colored powder couldn’t hide her pale complexion and swollen eyelids.

She smiled: “It’s already deep into the night, yet I’ve summoned the Grand Preceptor here. Please don’t blame me, Grand Preceptor.”

Rong Kang squinted his drunken eyes, stared at Gao Yongrong for a moment, then laughed: “Such a wonderful woman as the Empress Dowager, taking the initiative to invite this minister here—how could I bear to blame you? I wonder what matter the Empress Dowager wishes to discuss at this late hour?”

Gao Yongrong smiled without speaking, sitting motionless.

Rong Kang laughed heartily, strode to her side, and brazenly sat down. With one arm he embraced her, and with the other hand he took the wine pot from the table, pouring wine into a cup. He laughed: “If the Empress Dowager had come to her senses earlier, so many days wouldn’t have been wasted. Though this minister Rong Kang is a rough man, I will certainly serve the Empress Dowager with all my heart and ensure her satisfaction. Let me first toast the Empress Dowager.”

Gao Yongrong accepted the wine Rong Kang offered and drank it all at once, but because she drank too quickly, she choked and bent forward, burying her head and coughing incessantly.

Rong Kang exclaimed “Oh my!” and reached out to pat her back, saying: “This is my fault for causing the Empress Dowager discomfort. Please don’t blame me, Empress Dowager.” As he spoke, his hand changed to caressing, completely unrestrained.

Gao Yongrong seemed completely unaware, keeping her head buried and coughing for quite some time before straightening up again. She placed her empty wine cup back on the table, picked up the wine pot herself, and filled the cup with wine. She lifted it up, and was about to offer it to Rong Kang when she put it down again, glancing at the guards who had followed Rong Kang and now stood outside the palace doors. She gently pushed away Rong Kang’s hands that were wandering over her body.

Rong Kang understood and immediately ordered all the guards to withdraw and not enter without being summoned.

Once the guards had left, Gao Yongrong smiled: “Courtesy demands reciprocity. Moreover, the Grand Preceptor has worked hard assisting His Majesty and deserves great merit. This humble woman also wishes to toast the Grand Preceptor. Please don’t refuse, Grand Preceptor.” As she spoke, her manner was seductive and naturally captivating.

Rong Kang laughed heartily, repeatedly saying “good,” and accepted the cup, bringing it to his lips. Just as he was about to drink, he suddenly stopped and said: “If I drink this cup, how will the Empress Dowager reward me?”

Gao Yongrong’s eyes sparkled as she said: “However the Grand Preceptor wishes, this humble woman will comply.”

Amid hearty laughter, Rong Kang again raised the cup and, under Gao Yongrong’s gaze, brought it to his lips again. Just as he was about to open his mouth to drink, he suddenly stopped again and extended the cup back toward Gao Yongrong: “The Empress Dowager’s feelings toward me—I know them well in my heart. You’ve always looked down on me. To receive such favor from the Empress Dowager tonight, I’m moved to tears. This wine was poured by the Empress Dowager’s own hand for me. I dare not drink it alone. Please, Empress Dowager, take a sip first, and then I’ll gratefully accept the rest. How about that?”

A strange glint flashed in Gao Yongrong’s eyes, but she remained composed, coughing a few times and shaking her head in refusal: “This humble woman cannot drink wine. That cup just now nearly choked me to death. Please don’t make it difficult for me, Grand Preceptor.” Her tone carried a hint of coquettishness.

Rong Kang smiled slyly at her, but still wouldn’t take back the cup, insisting that Gao Yongrong share the drink with him. Seeing her repeated refusals, he laughed: “The Empress Dowager refuses to drink from this cup—could it be that the Empress Dowager knows there’s something wrong with this wine?”

Gao Yongrong’s expression changed slightly as she forced a smile: “I don’t understand what the Grand Preceptor means by this.”

Rong Kang stared at her, his smile suddenly vanishing as he set down the wine cup and said coldly: “When you were coughing and bent over just now—did you think I didn’t see? What did you flick into the cup?”

Gao Yongrong froze for a moment, then suddenly straightened up and lunged for the wine cup on the table, raising her hand to knock it to the ground. But Rong Kang slapped her to the floor with one palm.

Rong Kang stood up, staring down at Gao Yongrong prostrate on the ground, and sneered: “I may be a rough man, but I still value my life. This wine the Empress Dowager has graciously offered—I absolutely dare not drink it. Since you won’t drink it yourself, let’s have someone else drink it!” He loudly ordered someone to bring the young emperor.

Gao Yongrong’s face suddenly changed dramatically as she shouted: “You wouldn’t dare!”

The palace servant had already left on the errand. Gao Yongrong tried to chase after him to stop him, but how could she possibly succeed? In moments, she watched as her son was pushed in by several wolf-like palace servants, his mouth tightly covered.

At Rong Kang’s command, several servants seized him, restraining his struggles. One picked up the wine from the table, pried open his mouth, and prepared to pour it down his throat.

Gao Yongrong’s face turned deathly pale.

Just moments before, while pretending to cough, she had flicked poison hidden under her fingernail into the empty cup from which she had finished drinking.

This poison was extremely potent—just a fingernail’s worth would cause someone to bleed from all seven orifices and die once it entered the stomach. Even the greatest immortal couldn’t escape such a fate.

She had already secretly conspired with several trusted ministers. Once Rong Kang died from the poison tonight, they would bring people into the palace and eliminate all of Rong Kang’s people in one sweep.

She had never imagined that Rong Kang, who seemed like a fool, would actually be so careful and observant. Seeing the poisoned wine about to be forced down her son’s throat, Gao Yongrong was terrified to her core. She screamed and crawled over, clutching Rong Kang’s legs tightly, kowtowing repeatedly, tears streaming down her face as she begged him to spare her son.

Rong Kang ordered the servants to stop pouring the wine and said: “Between you and His Majesty, I only need to keep one alive. If you want to save His Majesty, very well—you drink this cup yourself, and he can live. Don’t worry, once His Majesty announces to the world that he’s abdicating the throne to me, I’ll treat him well and spare his life.”

Gao Yongrong looked up at Rong Kang, frozen.

“Speak quickly—will it be you who lives, or him?” Rong Kang snarled as he pressed for an answer.

“A’Niang—A’Niang—”

Her son continued struggling desperately in the servants’ hands, his cries for help reaching her ears continuously.

Gao Yongrong’s entire body trembled uncontrollably, sweat rolling down from her forehead.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but her tongue seemed pressed down by something, unable to utter a single word.

“If you don’t die, then your son dies! Pour it down his throat!”

Rong Kang roared harshly.

The palace servants pried open the young emperor’s mouth and poured the wine down his throat.

“Ahhhh—”

Gao Yongrong screamed, closed her eyes, and fainted, collapsing to the ground.