Liang Zhou was an ancient city that had dominated the western frontier for several hundred years. Though situated in a desolate region with sparse population, its location at the border meant the city walls were built exceptionally solid and imposing.

When Hua Zhuyu arrived at Liang Zhou, it was already dusk on the ninth day. The sun had set, and the clouds above Liang Zhou seemed as if they had been ignited by wildfire, glowing a tragic red. People riding donkeys, carrying loads, and bearing sedan chairs made their way toward the city in the dim twilight of the setting sun.

Just then, a gong sounded—the order for the four gates’ patrols had been issued, and the heavy city gates were about to close.

Hua Zhuyu’s horse beneath her neighed once and galloped through the half-closed gate, followed by the heavy creaking sounds behind her as the city gate shut tight. She pulled on the reins and glanced up at the soldiers and officers guarding the city tower—she didn’t recognize any of them.

She spurred her horse onward, navigating the secluded streets and alleys with familiar ease. Every street and lane before her was one she had traversed hundreds of times; she could walk them with her eyes closed without taking a wrong turn. After turning several corners, a residence appeared before her.

Above the gate were inscribed four large characters: “Loyal and Righteous Hua Manor.” This plaque had been personally written by Emperor Yan himself. In front of the gate, the former prosperity was nowhere to be seen—only coldness and deadly silence remained. The vermillion red gate was tightly shut, sealed with imperial prohibition strips.

Hua Zhuyu lifted the gauze hat covering her face, sat mounted and gazed for a long while, then pulled the reins and rode away.

In Wangsun Alley on the east side of the city stood a tavern called “Beauty’s Intoxication.”

The fine wine brewed at this tavern was the most fragrant and mellow in all of Liang Zhou, and it had the most customers. However, since last winter, no good wine had been brewed here. Most importantly, the proprietress who had once been as beautiful as a flower now constantly wore a frowning expression, as if someone owed her a thousand taels of silver. Gradually, “Beauty’s Intoxication” became deserted, and recently, it had simply closed down altogether.

Hua Zhuyu rode to the tavern and, seeing the tightly shut gate, frowned. She dismounted and went around to the white wall behind, leaping up and vaulting over the wall from outside.

A loud thud as she landed.

Hua Zhuyu frowned—she had scaled this wall countless times, but this time she had made the most noise.

“Who’s there?” The person inside had already heard the commotion and called out coldly, stepping out from within.

It was a woman as gorgeous as a peony and as radiant as the morning sun—if she were to smile, it would surely be dazzling. However, her face was full of sorrow, and she wore plain cloth robes with a small white silk flower pinned in her hair. Her gaze fixed sharply on Hua Zhuyu as she demanded coldly, “What thief dares come here?”

Hua Zhuyu paid her no mind and said melodiously, “I want a pot of Falling Flower Smoke, and two plates of clean, light dishes. Send someone to open the gate and bring in my horse from outside, and feed it well!” As she spoke casually, she walked toward the woman. After traveling day and night without rest, she was already extremely hungry and exhausted.

The plain-clothed woman was instantly stunned, standing there in a daze as if in a dream, watching Hua Zhuyu approach her. The faint slanting sunlight enveloped that figure—it was a scene the plain-clothed woman had seen countless times in her dreams.

“You… you are…” She stared in disbelief, her eyes already brimming with tears.

“Dan Hong, I’m back!” Hua Zhuyu sighed softly.

Hearing the familiar words and voice, Dan Hong’s entire body trembled violently. She stepped forward and pulled off the gauze hat from Hua Zhuyu’s head.

When she saw the seductive half-mask behind the light veil, the exquisitely carved jawline, those clear eyes, and those graceful lips, Dan Hong completely broke down. Like a weary bird returning to its nest, she threw herself into Hua Zhuyu’s embrace, crying her heart out as if she wanted to shed all the tears of her lifetime.

Hua Zhuyu gently patted Dan Hong’s shoulder and forced a smile, saying, “Dan Hong, you’ve grown thin.”

If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she truly wouldn’t have believed that the woman who once wore red dresses with radiant spirit, who had played the qin for her on the battlefield, could have become so frail and sorrowful. Her gaze swept through the black hair and fixed on that white silk flower.

“Dan Hong, who died? Could it be that the Marquis has already…” Her heart clenched painfully, and Hua Zhuyu’s face had already turned pale as snow.

Wasn’t the execution supposed to be in ten days? The time hadn’t arrived yet! Could it have been moved up? Could she still not have made it in time?

Hearing this, Dan Hong’s expression became extremely complex. She reached up and removed the white silk flower from her hair, throwing it to the ground. “The Marquis is fine, General, don’t worry! I wore this flower originally for you! You’re alive—why didn’t you tell Dan Hong? You don’t know how I’ve suffered through these days! If not for the Marquis earnestly persuading me, saying the General still had unfulfilled wishes and wanted me to complete them in your place, I would have followed you long ago.” Dan Hong spoke softly, a trace of deep resentment flashing in her dark eyes.

Hua Zhuyu closed her eyes, her face full of remorse.

She actually knew of Dan Hong’s feelings for her. She had hinted countless times that nothing was possible between them, telling her to give up such thoughts. Dan Hong had agreed, and she had originally thought she had come to terms with it, never expecting her to remain so persistent.

Her true identity—father had repeatedly cautioned her not to let anyone know. She had indeed done well; even Dan Hong and her four personal guards Ping, An, Kang, and Tai had never discovered it.

But she never expected to incur such an emotional debt! She had originally thought she would never appear in this identity again. She would let Ying Shuxie’s death end Dan Hong’s infatuation. But she had never anticipated that Dan Hong’s feelings would run so deep that she would actually be in mourning for her! What was she to do about this?

“I…” Hua Zhuyu opened her mouth but ultimately didn’t know how to begin.

Dan Hong wiped the tears from her face and looked up, “General, please come inside. First bathe and dine, and we can talk slowly afterward.”

The servants had already efficiently prepared the meal. While dining, Hua Zhuyu learned about Liang Zhou’s situation from Dan Hong.

Reportedly, the court had originally intended to escort Hua Mu to the capital for execution, but later, considering that Liang Zhou was too far from the capital and fearing accidents along the way, an edict was issued to execute him locally. However, because Hua Mu had been stationed in Liang Zhou for many years and had won the people’s hearts, there had been continuous appeals for his vindication these past days. Therefore, fearing unrest, the court had transferred twenty thousand Imperial Guards from the capital and completely replaced Liang Zhou’s military forces.

Hua Zhuyu lowered her head in thought—under such circumstances, the execution ground would surely be heavily guarded as well.

“Dan Hong, what happened to the Orphan Army? And what about Ping, An, Kang, and Tai?”

“The Orphan Army is fine. The court’s main purpose this time was to arrest the generals under the Marquis’s command. Ping, An, Kang, and Tai weren’t arrested because they were the General’s personal guards. However, they have already left the army.”

Hua Zhuyu nodded. If she were still in the army, she would probably also be on the arrest list.

“Dan Hong, bring ink, brush, and paper.”

Dan Hong prepared the writing materials. Hua Zhuyu picked up the wolf-hair brush and wrote swiftly, composing a letter. Then, from inside her robes, she took out a small seal, dipped it in red ink, and stamped it at the end of the letter.

The Orphan Army was under her direct command. Although she was a general under Hua Mu’s leadership, the Orphan Army was not incorporated into the Hua Family Army. Perhaps father had long foreseen this day and arranged it this way?

The seal in her hand bore no characters, only a small flower. It was not a court seal but one she had made herself, used to command five hundred elite soldiers from the Orphan Army. These five hundred elite were the troops who had ventured with her into the Western Liang desert, facing life and death together. That time, if not for her clever strategies to repel the enemy multiple times, they should all have been buried in that wasteland.

They had sworn to follow her for life, which led to the creation of this seal. Once this seal appeared, the court’s military orders would no longer hold sway over them. She had once thought this seal would never be used in her lifetime. But life was unpredictable—she never imagined she would use it today.

Hua Zhuyu rolled the letter into a small paper tube and asked Dan Hong, “Are those pigeons still being kept?”

Dan Hong nodded, called a pigeon inside, tied the letter to its leg, and released it.

After completing all this, Hua Zhuyu had no time to reminisce with Dan Hong. She went to the back room and threw herself onto the warm, comfortable brocade bedding, falling into deep sleep—she was truly exhausted.

In her dream, she walked through tent after tent, arriving at her father’s military tent.

Deep into the night, he still sat before his desk, studying a military map and desperately seeking strategies to repel the enemy. His once-smooth forehead was now marked with traces of wind and frost, and his temples were touched with white. He looked up at her, and in the candlelight, his smile was loving and gentle. The scene suddenly shifted—an executioner raised his blade high and chopped down viciously. Her heart filled with terror as she tried desperately to cry out, but no matter what, she couldn’t make a sound.

Blood—blood everywhere, spreading toward her.

She jolted awake. Cold moonlight streamed through the window onto the floor before her bed, cold and lonely.

Hua Zhuyu gasped heavily, her heart beating violently. She slowly walked to the window. The night was still deep, but she could no longer sleep. Her brows furrowed deeply, her heart full of worry—tonight’s dream was very inauspicious!

Light knocking accompanied Dan Hong’s low voice: “General, they’ve arrived.”

“I know!” Hua Zhuyu replied softly. She turned and put on the clothes Dan Hong had prepared for her—the loose robes she loved to wear because their roominess could completely hide her graceful figure. She lightly touched the mask on her face, and finding everything normal, slowly walked toward the door.

Once, she had naively thought she would never dress like this again. She thought she could live like an ordinary woman, following her husband’s lead and raising children. But from now on, such a life was forever beyond her reach.

She smiled bitterly and pushed the door open.

In the hall, candles flickered dimly as two people sat solemnly in chairs. As soon as Hua Zhuyu entered, one of them shot up from his chair, rushed to her in a few steps, reached out to pat her shoulder, and shouted in disbelief, “General, is it really you?! Am I dreaming?”

Hua Zhuyu shifted her shoulder aside, dodging—in her current state, she couldn’t withstand Kang’s enthusiastic slap.

Kang ranked third among her four personal guards. With sword-like brows and bright eyes, though not particularly handsome, he was forthright and magnanimous. His nature was rather lively, and Hua Zhuyu often joked with him in daily life, so he was accustomed to being casual in her presence.

“General, what’s going on? How did you come back to life?” Kang asked while circling around Hua Zhuyu non-stop, sometimes touching her shoulder, sometimes pinching her arm, as if checking whether she was complete and intact. Finally, he reached out and pinched his own arm hard, grimacing in pain, confirming he wasn’t dreaming before letting go. His tiger-like eyes were already filled with tears that kept falling.

“I’m perfectly fine—why are you crying?” Hua Zhuyu asked sternly.

“I, I can’t control it,” Kang sobbed.

The other man who had remained silent was handsome with long, willow-leaf eyes full of spirit. He stood with his hands behind his back, smiling as he watched her—it was Ping, who had rescued her from the Northern Dynasty military camp that day.

“Where are An and Tai?” Hua Zhuyu lifted the hem of her robe, sat in a chair, and asked casually.

“Before the Marquis’s incident, they were sent out on business and haven’t returned yet,” Ping replied gravely.

Hua Zhuyu frowned slightly. After her incident, all four had followed her father. But what matter could be so important that they hadn’t returned even when father was in trouble? After a moment of silence, she said softly, “I’m not completely confident about tomorrow’s affair. Perhaps once we go, we’ll never return. You two should consider this carefully!”

“We swear to follow the General to the death,” Ping and Kang said firmly.

Hua Zhuyu nodded. “If that’s the case, tomorrow morning, you two should send people to investigate the troop deployment at the execution ground so we can plan accordingly. Who is the court official sent to oversee the execution this time?” Thinking of this crucial question, she looked up and asked.

Kang said angrily, “It’s Left Prime Minister Ji Fengli. I get angry just mentioning him—he killed the Marquis’s daughter, and when he was supervising the army last time, I wanted to find a chance to cut him down. I didn’t expect him to come to Liang Zhou again this time as the supervising executioner. Tomorrow, I must deal with him!”

Hearing this, a cold light flashed in Hua Zhuyu’s eyes. The supervising executioner was actually Ji Fengli! Even more unexpected was that the supervisor in white robes, elegant as an immortal on the battlefield that day, was actually him?

Thinking of the humiliation she had suffered these days and Jin Se’s death, Hua Zhuyu’s dark eyes deepened, and her jade hands clenched tightly into fists.

“Ping, my internal energy has been sealed. Help me break it. Dan Hong, you and Kang go outside and keep watch—don’t let anyone in to disturb us,” Hua Zhuyu instructed softly.

Ping agreed, and Dan Hong and Kang slowly withdrew.

Hua Zhuyu sat cross-legged on the carpet. Ping pressed his palm against her back and continuously channeled his internal energy into her body. It took a full hour to break through the restrictions sealing Hua Zhuyu’s internal power.

Outside the window, the sky changed from deep black to pale white—dawn was about to break.

The news of Marquis Pingxi Hua Mu’s treason and rebellion had already spread throughout Liang Zhou like wildfire.

Hua Mu had been stationed in Liang Zhou for years, always loyal to the court and loving the people as his own children. But once the charge of treason was brought, his past good image seemed to be completely reversed within a few days. Even his former virtues became false benevolence and righteousness aimed at seizing the realm.

Public opinion was indeed fearsome. However, quite a few of Liang Zhou’s citizens still believed Hua Mu wasn’t that kind of person. They remembered that years ago, when Hua Mu was merely a commander sent to guard Liang Zhou, he had repeatedly defeated the invading Western Liang forces. And such a person was now to be executed for treason.

The execution platform had been erected, and all of Liang Zhou’s citizens flocked there with various complex emotions to witness the execution.

Directly facing the execution platform was Liang Zhou’s Full Garden Spring Teahouse, which had exceptionally good business that day. The seats on the second and third floors had been reserved days in advance.

By today, there were no seats left. However, some wealthy people had paid enormous sums to take over reservations from others.

For instance, a private room on the second floor directly facing the execution platform had been taken over that morning for three hundred taels of silver.

In the second-floor private room sat an extremely tall man, sipping tea. In the misty vapor rising from the tea, a pair of narrow purple eyes appeared even more profound.

“Hui Xue, do you think she’ll come to rescue Hua Mu?” He sipped his tea and asked casually.

“Your Highness, Hui Xue doesn’t know. There are over ten thousand troops in ambush around this execution ground. To rescue Hua Mu would be extremely difficult. And Dan Hong is just a servant girl—even if she can mobilize some accomplices, it would be very hard to succeed. So perhaps she won’t come.”

“You’re right. Only an idiot would try to rescue someone under these circumstances.” He said coldly, gently placing his teacup on the table.

It was just a pity that the men he had sent to follow that idiot had actually lost track of her. Now, even if he wanted to stop her, it would probably be very difficult.

Hua Zhuyu was currently positioned in a private room on the third floor of Full Garden Spring Teahouse, which Ping had secured from someone else early that morning. Though in the teahouse, she had no leisure for tea. Standing tall and graceful by the window, she gazed down with focused eyes.

Below was a sea of people—spectators.

The execution platform was still empty.

While waiting, Hua Zhuyu circulated her internal energy once more, confirming that her power had fully recovered before feeling relieved.

The crowd suddenly became agitated. Hua Zhuyu narrowed her eyes and looked down, seeing soldiers from the capital clearing the area in front of the platform based on their uniforms. Soon after the crowd retreated, soldiers of the Hua Family Army were brought up one by one. Those familiar faces had not long ago fought alongside her on the battlefield, killing enemies to protect their homeland. Today, they had already become prisoners about to be beheaded on the execution platform.

The last person brought up was Marquis Pingxi Hua Mu. His always upright figure had grown much thinner. The white prisoner’s robes hung loosely on him. His face bore wound after wound, probably infected, causing his face to swell somewhat. If not for careful observation, Hua Zhuyu could hardly recognize him.

Hua Zhuyu’s heart felt as if pierced by knives. Her hand gripping the wooden window involuntarily tightened, crushing the wood and causing fragments to fall with a clatter. She surveyed her surroundings, observing the terrain clearly, then touched her toes lightly, gracefully flipping out through the window frame, landing on the outer ledge, then leaping from there onto the rooftop. Soon, her figure appeared among the crowded spectators at the execution ground.

The sunlight outside was intense, illuminating the executioner’s blade until it gleamed blindingly bright, almost enough to blind one’s eyes.

After the prisoners were brought onto the platform, following a spine-chilling silence, several people walked steadily forward from the rigidly standing ranks of soldiers.

The leader wore deep red brocade robes with cloud patterns and a wide black jade belt that outlined his straight, tall figure. His handsome face bore slanting eyebrows and deep black phoenix eyes. He walked slowly onto the high platform and stood there gracefully.

His every movement and entire being embodied two words: elegance.

He seemed like a piece of finely carved and polished jade, or like a leisurely, gentle breeze. The eight words “gracious gentleman, gentle as jade” seemed to have been created specifically for him. From his attire and the respectful attitude of the several people behind him, he was none other than Left Prime Minister Ji Fengli—Hua Zhuyu’s former husband.

Hua Zhuyu gazed at him, her clear black eyes seeming to have ink continuously poured into them, growing darker and more profound, like an abyssal cold pond.

The three words “Ji Fengli”—Hua Zhuyu had to admit they were already deeply engraved in her mind. These past days, though not day and night, she had often gritted her teeth while reciting this name.

In her heart, she had long associated him with despicable villains and vile thieves. The rumors from the imperial capital about him being the foremost young master of unparalleled elegance had been automatically filtered out by her, and she had already sketched a vague, shameless, and wretched image of him in her mind.

Seeing such a graceful and elegant person suddenly appear before her, Hua Zhuyu was momentarily stunned. When she finally realized this man was Ji Fengli, she couldn’t help but lament heaven’s injustice.

Absolutely unjust.

Such an appearance wasted on him was truly a squandering of nature’s gifts.

Such a person, no matter how extraordinarily beautiful, was at most nothing more than a hypocrite. But this hypocrite was obviously making his debut appearance in Liang Zhou, and in an instant, many people’s gazes were drawn to him, especially the women.

Hua Zhuyu frowned deeply, calculating in her heart whether she would have time and opportunity to stab Ji Fengli after rescuing her father. She had never heard that Ji Fengli knew martial arts—reportedly, the reason he wasn’t among the four most peerless men of this age was precisely because his martial skills were lacking.

After Ji Fengli leisurely took his seat on the execution supervision platform, an official from the Ministry of Justice stood up and began reciting the charges and official documents. After all the formalities were completed and the appointed time had arrived, Ji Fengli picked up the execution token carved with the character “Execute” from the table.

Everyone nervously watched the token in his hand, no one noticing the deep regret in Ji Fengli’s eyes.

Just as the token was about to fall and the executioner’s blade was about to rise—

At this critical moment, the crowded masses suddenly screamed, shouting and jumping to dodge, some surging toward the execution ground, others trying to retreat. Like a calm sea suddenly becoming turbulent, there were shrill screams everywhere, along with the crackling sounds of firecrackers.

The firecrackers had been prepared long ago by the Orphan Army hidden in the crowd at Hua Zhuyu’s instruction—long strings of them exploding right under people’s feet.

The crowd was already packed, and with this commotion, the entire scene instantly became chaotic. The soldiers couldn’t control it even if they tried. The guards protecting the execution platform were also pushed back repeatedly by the crowd.

At this moment, Hua Zhuyu moved, and the Orphan Army mixed in the crowd also moved.

Hua Zhuyu raised her hand, and the executioner’s wrist went limp, his blade falling to the ground. She stepped on someone’s shoulder and, like a great bird, leaped onto the execution platform in a single bound.

Her plain white battle robe swayed past in the noon sunlight, shimmering with a water-like luster, lifted by the wind like a suddenly blooming white lotus. Her silk-like long hair flowed gracefully down her shoulders in magnificent waves, with unruly strands brushing past her cheeks, covering her pointed chin with an elegant, gentle beauty.

When she raised her head, everyone was stunned. That seductive half-mask, those cold eyes, those thin lips, that gracefully flowing jawline, that proud, cold, disdainful gaze—if this wasn’t Yinmian Xiuluo, who else could it be?

The reputation of Yinmian Xiuluo was known to everyone in Liang Zhou without exception. After all, he was not only a battlefield hero but also a graceful young man. His unexpected death had once caused quite a stir in Liang Zhou and broken countless young maidens’ hearts.

Today, Hua Zhuyu’s sudden appearance at the execution ground was like adding more fuel to boiling water—the scene became even more uncontrollable. Many people screamed and surged forward, not knowing what they intended to do—whether to see if this was really Yinmian Xiuluo or for some other purpose.

But Hua Zhuyu didn’t linger. She glided to Hua Mu’s side, swept her long sword, and the still-dazed executioner fell to the ground. The sharp blade sliced through the ropes with a swish, and Hua Zhuyu grabbed Hua Mu around the waist, handing him to Ping who had arrived behind her.

All this happened in mere moments.

The Ministry of Justice official held his gavel and shouted loudly, “Someone is disrupting the execution! Quickly arrest them!”

Hua Zhuyu looked back and saw that amidst all the chaos, Ji Fengli still sat there calmly, transcendent and unworldly from beginning to end, showing not the slightest panic or anger. The corners of his graceful lips even curved upward in a barely perceptible smile.

This reminded Hua Zhuyu of seeing him on the battlefield that time—he had also stood there, calmly watching the fighting soldiers.

Though this chaos was clearly his doing, the instigator remained so composed, which Hua Zhuyu couldn’t help but find infuriating.

Originally, she hadn’t planned to do anything to him today—after all, today’s primary mission was rescue.

But memories flickered before her eyes like chaotic reflections in water, flashing past at lightning speed. Jin Se’s final scream before death, that cold blood color on the white snow—she ultimately couldn’t restrain herself.

Why not take advantage of this chaos to settle this debt? Otherwise, there would never be such a perfect opportunity again.

She was never one to hesitate. In just an instant, her body followed her thoughts, her waist suddenly twisting as she leaped toward Ji Fengli against the flashing blades and swords.

The soldiers rushing up hadn’t expected Hua Zhuyu not only to disrupt the execution but also to attempt assassination. Originally thinking she would leap away to escape, no one anticipated she would turn back. By the time they reacted, Hua Zhuyu had already vaulted over their heads, her cold, gleaming sword heading straight for Ji Fengli.

Her clear gaze remained fixed on Ji Fengli throughout—such a gaze, sharp and proud, carrying disdain and contempt, stabbing at Ji Fengli as if it had substance.

Ji Fengli raised his eyes calmly, looking at her with unruffled composure, his eyes reflecting rippling light. Just as Hua Zhuyu’s sword tip was about to pierce him, he moved too. His movements appeared slow and elegant, devastatingly beautiful, yet his form was swift as lightning as he sidestepped to avoid Hua Zhuyu’s deadly strike.

Hua Zhuyu’s heart jolted as she stared at him in disbelief. He had resumed his seat in the execution supervisor’s position and smiled at her, his smile as gentle as flowing water and moonlight.

Hua Zhuyu was so frustrated!

Heaven knew how sharp that sword strike had been, yet he had dodged it so effortlessly. But in others’ eyes, he had clearly dodged very slowly, making it seem as if her swordsmanship was inadequate.

She gritted her silver teeth, her gaze suddenly darkening as her jade hand trembled, about to strike again.

But the initiative was lost. From somewhere, a crowd of hidden guards appeared, surrounding Ji Fengli in a fan formation so tightly that not even water could leak through, facing her as if confronting a great enemy.

Knowing she couldn’t succeed today, Hua Zhuyu suddenly smiled, her autumn-water-clear eyes bright and serene.

“Ji Fengli, this Xiuluo will remember your life for now. Until we meet again!” Her voice was low and mellow, her tone light, yet it pressed down like a thousand pounds, making even the soldiers protecting Ji Fengli feel a piercing killing intent.

Ji Fengli’s rippling dark pupils gazed at her calmly, his lips curving as he said with a brilliant smile, “This minister awaits at your convenience.”

“Release arrows! Quickly release arrows and capture this rebel!” Someone shouted hoarsely in command.

Instantly, arrows filled the sky, shooting toward Hua Zhuyu.

Though Hua Zhuyu wore armor beneath her white battle robe, it couldn’t protect her entire body. She quickly circulated her internal energy, and immediately her robes billowed with the force. Her sword wasn’t idle either, spinning into a coldly gleaming sword circle that deflected all the flying arrows back.

The arrow rain fell around her like falling petals.

This dense rain of arrows was a deadly weapon to others, but to her, it was like a magnificent backdrop. Everything seemed like an ink painting, with only her as the most richly colored brushstroke.

Coldly surveying the execution ground, some of the soldiers about to be beheaded had been rescued, but most were still intercepted, unable to escape their fate.

One by one, the vibrant lives, the loyal and patriotic hearts, had now become cold corpses.

Hua Zhuyu’s cold eyes narrowed as she wielded her long sword, moving through the flashing blades and flying arrows as if strolling leisurely through a garden.

Her white robes gradually became stained with blood, like flowing white streaked with red. Her black hair was also bloodstained, hanging to her waist with a crimson, bloody aura. The fierce killing intent in her eyes made her appear like an asura from hell at first glance.

Beautiful and bloodthirsty!

Hua Zhuyu’s breathtaking aura at this moment so stunned one soldier that he forgot to move, and the next instant, a blade was pulled from his body.

Several dozen Orphan Army soldiers followed closely behind Hua Zhuyu, fighting the soldiers blocking their way.

Buildings on one side of the execution ground suddenly caught fire. Once the blaze started, it spread rapidly, burning fiercely. Originally, the archers were all hidden on rooftops shooting arrows, but now with the fire, they all cried out as they tumbled down from the roofs, adding chaos to chaos. Taking advantage of the confusion, Hua Zhuyu led the Orphan Army and carved out a bloody path.

Full Garden Spring.

The fire had already ignited. Those who had originally been watching the excitement at the execution ground soaked their clothes in water, covered their mouths and noses, and scurried about like ants on a hot pan.

In the private room on the second floor, smoke had gradually drifted up. The room that had been filled with fragrant aromas was now full of smoke.

Xiao Yin stood by the window, his tall figure appearing somewhat hazy in the smoke. His face was also shrouded in thick smoke, becoming blurred, with only his purple eyes emanating a cold, noble, piercing light as he stared unblinkingly at the execution ground below.

He stood there motionless like an exquisite sculpture, only rather cold.

The personal guards behind him were already anxiously pacing in circles, not knowing what to do but not daring to disturb him. Finally, Hui Xue couldn’t bear it anymore and gathered courage to say, “Your Highness, the fire will soon reach the second floor. Let’s leave quickly! I think Dan Hong certainly won’t come, and besides, Hua Mu has already been rescued.”

Hearing this, Xiao Yin finally turned around, his gaze lightly sweeping over Hui Xue, his purple eyes unfathomable. He said coolly, “Who said I was waiting for her?”

Though his voice was light, it contained bone-chilling coldness. Hui Xue immediately fell silent and couldn’t help shivering.

“Perhaps she has already come.” His tone was lazy, seemingly casual yet seemingly meaningful.

Everyone was somewhat puzzled as they followed Xiao Yin in leaving the tavern.

Hua Zhuyu never could have imagined that when she reached the meeting point outside the city, Marquis Pingxi Hua Mu had already closed his eyes forever.

The cause of death was poisoning. Even before he was brought to the execution platform, he had already been poisoned in advance.

Hua Zhuyu dismissed the Orphan Army soldiers and several rescued generals, and together with Ping, Kang, and Dan Hong, buried Hua Mu in the desolate yellow sand of the western frontier. The small grave mound didn’t even have a proper headstone. She knelt straight before the grave, terrifyingly calm.

There were no anticipated tears—her eyes were dry, the tears having long since been shed. But her heart felt as if it were being slowly sliced with a knife, the pain penetrating to the bone. In the end, she had failed to preserve her father’s life.

She raised her eyes, and behind her exquisite mask, her originally clear, water-like eyes seemed stained with blood, glowing with a faint red, cold to the extreme, bewitching to the extreme. After an unknown amount of time, she slowly stood up and said quietly, “Let’s go!”

Perhaps pursuers would arrive soon. Now, she didn’t want to do anything except live. Only by staying alive could she clear the names of the dead and give them peace.

“We can’t return to the Southern Dynasty now. You should find your own hiding places.”

“General, where are you going? Can we go together?” Dan Hong grabbed Hua Zhuyu’s bloodstained sleeve and asked urgently.

Ping and Kang also looked hopeful.

“No, none of you should accompany me. I want to be alone.” she said quietly.

From now on, in this vast world, she no longer had any relatives to depend on—only herself, solitary and alone.

“General, must you abandon us?” Dan Hong pursed her lips and asked mournfully.

Hua Zhuyu resolutely mounted her horse.

All of them had contributed greatly to this rescue operation. Now she was no longer any general, and she didn’t want to burden them further—they should have their own lives.

“Very well, since the General insists, we won’t oppose it. Let’s meet in Yu Capital in three months.” Ping’s dark eyes looked deeply at Hua Zhuyu as he spoke with sorrow. Ping had obviously guessed that Hua Zhuyu would return to Yu Capital sooner or later. He also knew that right now, Hua Zhuyu needed some time alone to gather herself.

They had never dared disobey Hua Zhuyu’s orders, so they could only look at her helplessly and ride westward toward Western Liang. Having fought countless battles large and small against Western Liang over the years, they were quite familiar with the terrain there. Hiding there for a while would be no problem. Only after their figures gradually disappeared on the horizon did Hua Zhuyu turn her horse northward. She had traveled less than the time it takes to burn a stick of incense when the sound of pursuing cavalry’s hoofbeats came from behind.

Black robes, black armor—soldiers from the capital. They had finally caught up.

Hua Zhuyu reined in her horse and looked back, seeing about a hundred riders galloping toward her. Upon seeing Hua Zhuyu, the group all dismounted, holding bright sharp blades as they surrounded her. Heavy killing intent surged forward.

Hua Zhuyu knew she had nowhere to retreat. She had sent Dan Hong and the Orphan Army away precisely so she could face these pursuers alone. Because she didn’t want anyone else to sacrifice themselves—they had already done enough for her. She dismounted, slowly drawing her sword from its sheath, the cold light illuminating her blood-red eyes, her white robes stained with blood, creating a tragically beautiful sight.

“Come at me together!” Her voice was extremely cold, extremely chill.

In an instant, a web of interwoven cold light swept toward her. After a clash of swords, the group of men beside Hua Zhuyu had all fallen together. She pulled her sword from someone’s body, blood dripping from the blade onto the sticky ground.

“Come again!” she said with a light laugh, her slender figure standing straight, the seductive silver mask gleaming with cold light.

The pursuers couldn’t help but shiver together. They had naturally heard of Yinmian Xiuluo’s reputation—they hadn’t expected that after fighting out from an encirclement of thousands of soldiers, she would still be so fierce.

“Let’s all attack together! He’s almost at his limit,” someone shouted.

Instantly, over ten more soldiers surrounded her. Actually, that person was right—Hua Zhuyu had indeed expended considerable internal energy and was now extremely exhausted. Moreover, her internal power had only just recovered the day before. Now, fighting many with few, she needed to achieve a quick victory and absolutely couldn’t drag it out, or she would certainly be unable to hold on. When her strength was exhausted, it would be a dead end.

Those people seemed to realize this point too, spreading out and beginning to attack from different angles.

During the fierce battle, Hua Zhuyu’s shoulders and back were somehow pierced, pain striking as her strength gradually flowed away. More and more wounds appeared on her body, and she was becoming increasingly numb.

Just then, clear hoofbeats came clip-clopping over. Another flash of blood before her eyes as Hua Zhuyu gasped and blocked another sword again. Through the flashing blades, she saw a carriage approaching.

Was the newcomer friend or foe? As she pondered this, she saw the carriage stop not far from them. The driver was a servant in gray robes who looked quite old.

“A’Gui, what’s happening? Why did you stop the carriage?” From within the carriage came a low, mellow, cool voice, like a cold spring splashing on stone.

The servant driving the carriage hurriedly bowed and reported, “Young Master, it’s a group of people surrounding and attacking one person.”

The person in the carriage made an “oh” sound and said, “Such injustice exists? In that case, why don’t you hurry and help!”

“Yes, Young Master!” A’Gui agreed and leaped down from the carriage shaft, jumping into the fighting circle where Hua Zhuyu and the others were battling.

“Who are you people? We are the imperial army, here to capture rebellious traitors. You’d better leave quickly,” the leading soldier said fiercely upon seeing A’Gui jump over.

He thought that saying this would surely frighten the newcomer. But A’Gui didn’t even lift an eyelid, not sparing him a glance. As if he could only hear his master’s words and was deaf to all others. He appeared old and decrepit, leaning on a walking stick. But once in the fighting circle, he seemed to suddenly become young again, his walking stick dancing with tremendous force, beating those soldiers until they were scattered and defeated. In no time, they were all lying on the ground, either clutching their legs or their stomachs, groaning and unable to get up.

“Young man, hurry and leave!” A’Gui said to Hua Zhuyu.

Hua Zhuyu cupped her fists and said gravely, “Thank you, Young Master and Elder, for your assistance. But may I know your honored names?”

“Young man, no need for courtesy. If fated, we’ll meet again. Hurry and go!” A’Gui leaned on his walking stick and bent over as he walked toward the carriage.

Hua Zhuyu mounted her horse. She looked back and through the white curtains of the carriage, vaguely saw someone sitting inside. That person seemed to be watching her too, with a burning gaze that seemed able to pierce through people.

But since the other party was unwilling to reveal their names, she couldn’t pursue the matter further. She simply cupped her hands toward the carriage and rode away.