When Jing Hengbo woke up, she felt her head hurt, stomach hurt, bones hurt—every part of her body ached without exception.

She seemed to have a fever again.

The surface beneath her swayed slightly—she appeared to be back on the carriage. She was too lazy to open her eyes, lying there reorganizing the thoughts in her just-awakened mind. The more she thought, the colder her heart became; the more she thought, the less inclined she was to open her eyes.

Torches in the darkness… constantly approaching crowds… ill-intentioned Yelu Qi… ice-cold Gong Yin… being forced into a life-or-death crisis…

Oh, this world was so harsh it made her forehead ache from the collision.

Jing Hengbo sighed deeply in her heart, feeling so pained she was somewhat dispirited. Even her previous grand aspiration to slap Gong Yin and Yelu Qi senseless—she was temporarily too lazy to think about execution plans.

There were sounds of stirring water beside her, along with the gentle sound of wringing out towels. Her heart stirred, wanting to open her eyes to see who was caring for her. After thinking about it, the corners of her mouth twisted, but she still held back.

Just won’t look! Just won’t look!

A cool towel was placed on her burning forehead. The person beside her breathed lightly. She felt the other person turn around. Squinting secretly, she saw only Jing Jun’s thin back.

Jing Hengbo didn’t know if she felt disappointed or relieved, then chuckled in her heart.

What was she thinking? Was her brain sick?

What hope was she still harboring?

Who in this world truly cared about whom?

If she hadn’t saved herself by eating bird droppings, she’d probably be eighty percent dead by now, meeting the previous queen in the underworld. In matters of life and death, the truth was revealed. Thinking about anything else, Jing Hengbo felt she’d look down on herself.

That’s just how it was. Men, especially men in politics—that’s just how they were. Loving beauties over kingdoms was YY fiction. The smart thing was to think about how to survive, at minimum not letting people trip you when they wanted, hostage you when they wanted, or force you to hang yourself the moment they said you weren’t chaste.

After being down for a while, Jing Hengbo rallied her spirits and began thinking about future survival paths.

Her exterior was casual and indulgent, indifferent to everything, but if truly provoked to a certain degree, she would display a beautiful quality called “stubborn persistence.” If being Queen was difficult, then she wouldn’t do it. But if others forced her not to do it or used the Queen’s position to restrict her, she would act foolishly—insisting on doing it no matter what.

She lay there thinking about how to shock the world with one skill at the welcoming ceremony. Dancing? She’d probably be beaten to death with the pole before finishing her pole dance, right? Singing? If “Uneasy” could make Dahuang people like her, she might as well be surnamed Huang—Huang for absurd. Talents? Did eating while doing yoga count as a talent? Poetry and prose? She’d been forced to learn a bellyful as a child, forgot half of it, and what remained was all the “classic versions” she’d taught Er Gouzi. Whether it could be shocking without dying, she didn’t know, but speaking shockingly and dying would definitely happen.

As for other talents like managing heaven and earth, or kingly aura, she looked herself up and down and chuckled.

Would having legs for maneuvering and breasts for spanning heaven and earth work?

Jing Hengbo rarely began sighing and worrying, then started comforting herself—in this situation, even if Jun Ke, Taishi Lan, and Wen Zhen came, they’d have no good solutions either. Could Jun Ke tell people she had a tumor on her stomach? Could Taishi Lan use her coffin face to make people tremble with awe? Wen Zhen’s cooking skills were more practical and might conquer a few people, but this test was for a Queen, not a cook.

Wind lifted a corner of the curtain, bringing in air that seemed different from usual—somewhat astringent and sour. This was reportedly the smell of distant swamps. The swamps occupying thirty percent of Dahuang’s territory were black lands that looked fertile but were actually useless, bearing countless people’s hopeful gazes while growing more desolate each day.

She suddenly remembered the current state of Dahuang that the guards had mentioned on the road—little land, many swamps, insufficient natural resources, mostly relying on secret imports. Gems and gold had depreciated, food was expensive, people lived in poverty, tribes could shed blood endlessly over a small piece of land…

Swamps… the swamps that sustained Dahuang people’s lives and blood… success and failure both due to swamps…

She suddenly trembled all over, as if a bright light flashed through her mind!

She actually still possessed something important!

“Box… box…” she immediately called out weakly.

Hearing her voice, Jing Jun turned around delightedly: “You’re awake! Do you want water? How do you feel now?”

“Box…” Jing Hengbo shook her head, persistent.

“I’ll go tell the State Preceptor!” Jing Jun seemed very excited, turning to get off the carriage.

“Box!”

The universe-exploding voice stopped Jing Jun’s steps. She turned back in shock to see the pale-faced Jing Hengbo determinedly pointing at a box in the corner of the carriage.

Jing Jun was somewhat stunned—she’d never seen Jing Hengbo with such an expression, feeling as if the person before her had changed.

She numbly turned back and dragged over the box. Jing Hengbo propped up her head, unable to move the huge box’s combination lock herself, so she could only give the combination and direct Jing Jun to unlock it. Jing Jun carefully moved the all-steel lock mechanism somewhat curiously, her eyes full of amazed light.

“What is this thing? So precise. Even the finest locksmith couldn’t make such lock pins…”

“I made it.” Jing Hengbo said casually. “Help me look through the box. There should be a book at the very bottom, some kind of comprehensive guide.”

Under normal circumstances, her box would never contain something as superfluous as a book—there wasn’t even enough room for bras! But because the bottom of her box was uneven and she was afraid of crushing her soft dresses and underwear, she had specially torn up a book to level the box bottom. When tearing up the book, she had glanced at the cover—it seemed to be “Travel the World Fearlessly—Life Skills Comprehensive Guide” that Jun Ke had bought online originally. Jun Ke bought it planning to use it to learn survival skills for maintaining livelihood after escaping the research institute. The book’s introduction boasted of being omnipotent, claiming that with one book in hand, you’d have the whole world. After buying it, Jun Ke discovered she’d been deceived. The so-called skills in the book could all be found online—they were just basic common knowledge from agriculture, industry, commerce, and other fields, probably compiled by college students earning extra money. It was tossed aside and eventually took on the great mission of leveling Jing Hengbo’s box.

Such a book, once transmigrated, naturally became precious for its advanced production techniques. But Jing Hengbo didn’t dare hope for too much—she remembered tearing up the book quite badly…

Jing Jun buried her head in the box, occasionally letting out trembling exclamations. Jing Hengbo didn’t mind—she didn’t really remember what was in her box. When packing, she’d just randomly stuffed things in, only remembering the most items were clothes and underwear. Those exquisite undergarments and nightgowns would amaze any woman.

“Ah.” Jing Jun’s hand suddenly stopped, letting out a low, shocked cry.

“What?” Jing Hengbo was getting impatient, leaning over to look. “Not done yet?”

“Oh no, no, I found it!” Jing Jun slammed the box lid shut with unexpected force, then turned around clutching a thin half-book. “Is this it?”

In the carriage’s dim light, her usually pale face suddenly flushed bright red, even her ears turning transparent carrot-colored. Jing Hengbo found it strange—was finding a book worth this reaction?

“I squatted too long, blood rushed to my head…” Facing her gaze, Jing Jun explained hesitantly.

Jing Hengbo had no mind for further thought, impatiently grabbing the book. Her fingers inadvertently touched Jing Jun’s fingers, and Jing Jun actually jerked back as if burned.

Jing Hengbo glanced at her, then focused on quickly flipping through the book. The more she read, the uglier her expression became; the more she read, the more uneasy she felt. Suddenly her finger stopped, quickly flipping back several pages. After thinking, she let out a cheer.

“Found it!”

“Found what?” Jing Jun, startled by her ups and downs, asked urgently.

“Hehehehe.” Jing Hengbo carefully read those few short lines several times, closed the book, and excitedly hugged Jing Jun. “Found a way to secure the Queen’s throne! Wahahahaha, wahaha I’ll never be bullied again! Wahahahaha I’ll transform this damned Dahuang Ze sooner or later…”

She was excited, but Jing Jun in her arms suddenly stiffened, then struggled violently without saying a word. Jing Hengbo immediately let go, excitedly flipping through that broken little booklet several more times, muttering constantly: “This might be useful? Oh no, this won’t work, definitely missing technology… Ahhhh talking about industrial revolution in an era without even steam engines…”

After all, she was a patient. Momentary excitement couldn’t offset physical fatigue. After flipping for a while, she collapsed backward: “My head hurts so much. I’ll put it away and look later.” Without waiting for Jing Jun to take it, she tossed the book into the box, closed the lid and pulled the zipper. This time she didn’t set a password again—she used to set passwords because she’d stolen many of Little Cake’s snacks. Now that the victim was gone, was there any point in locking it?

Jing Jun stood to one side, her gaze sweeping over the box. Seeing her exhausted and quickly falling asleep, she thought for a moment, then turned and got off the carriage.

Jing Hengbo didn’t sleep very peacefully. In her dreams, there was always a mass of burning red fire flowing and swaying around her, roasting her heart and making her bones ache. In the dream, not far away stood a snow mountain that looked particularly aloof and cool, and it was human-shaped. She ran and ran, the snow mountain retreated and retreated—so annoying…

Hazily, someone seemed to sit beside her, followed by the sound of splashing water, then her forehead felt cool. She drowsily thought, oh, it’s Jing Jun coming. It’s almost midnight, right? She’s really dedicated…

“Jing Jun… Jing Jun…” she mumbled unclearly. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you…”

The hand wiping her seemed to pause, then there seemed to be a low laugh, laughing at her inexplicable confidence and courage, and also seeming to laugh at her foolishness.

The laughter passed like wind, not lingering by Jing Hengbo’s ear. Her dream changed scenes—now there were dancing torches and a cold State Preceptor, a group of people with painted faces jumping around wanting to burn her.

“Tomboy… Cake Girl… Little X-ray… where are you…” she started calling again. “There’s lots of money and stupid people here, come quickly…”

The wiping hand paused again, with a light “hmph” from the nose.

“…If you don’t come, I’m going to be slaughtered and eaten up, boohoo…” In her dream, Jing Hengbo finally tearfully voiced the plea for help she’d never utter when awake. “They won’t save me… they harm me… treating me hot and cold… My life is like a ball they play with, just tossing back and forth… back and forth…”

The wiping hand froze, suspended in mid-air.

“Back and forth…” Someone in the dream could even act out gestures, actually swinging one hand and slapping the person beside her with a “smack.”

A crisp sound.

The atmosphere in the carriage froze.

That person seemed completely unprepared, momentarily holding their face, actually stunned.

It seemed… it had been many years since receiving such treatment, right…

Golden and precious, holding heavy power, wherever they went, ten thousand people prostrated themselves. If kneeling wasn’t humble enough, it was a crime—when had they ever received such a slap?

The body stiffened slightly, frozen like a statue in the darkness.

“…Heartless! Unrighteous! Shameless! Callous!” Jing Hengbo was completely unaware, still making accusations, one hand waving vigorously.

That person’s tense body gradually relaxed, suddenly sighing softly, pressing down her restless hand and carefully wiping her burning palm.

Jing Hengbo hummed comfortably but felt unsatisfied, suddenly turning over to hug those hands, murmuring: “Jing Jun… Jing Jun… why always wipe my forehead… wipe my neck too…”

Those hands stopped, this time even the arm went rigid.

A line of moonlight illuminated the upright, rigid figure sitting in the darkness, the whole arm tilted at thirty degrees. On the arm lay a drowsy woman like a lazy cat, saliva nearly wetting the person’s sleeve. This was bad enough, but this diagonal arm-hugging posture showed trembling danger, still unconsciously rubbing and nuzzling like an insatiable little wild cat, claiming her favorite thing, determined to leave her scent and declare silent possession.

The figure in darkness seemed motionless, but looking carefully, the snow-white robe hem seemed to tremble slightly, like snow accumulated thick for a thousand years with no human touch, called by clear mountain voices, trembling out silent response.

Touch had never been so sensitive. Every blood vessel seemed pierced by heavenly electric current. Between tremors were patches of snow-white blankness, interwoven with her brilliant colors and red lips.

Like fire burning endless snowy plains, he felt dangerous collapse.

And this wasn’t the end. She twisted impatiently, quickly unbuttoning her loose nightgown.

“Jing Jun… wipe me… my body is so hot…”

Indeed very hot.

Darkness seemed to suddenly disappear, night also seemed to suddenly vanish. Before his eyes were spring wind and spring water, rippling out fine waves carrying boats full of peach blossoms. Between heaven and earth wasn’t pale green connection, only that patch of white remained—snow-white, dazzling white, pure white, crystal clear transparent white… escaping in his vision yet magnifying in the sky, growing larger… and larger… vast and boundless… drowning him…

The figure trembled more violently. A line of deep red quietly appeared at his lips, so sudden. He raised his hand and gently wiped it away. Leaning slightly, he gently helped her sit properly. She clung to him again, subconsciously craving his cool breath and temperature. A faint smile bloomed at the corners of his lips.

Moonlight seemed to suddenly dim because of this smile’s beauty.

Jing Hengbo clawed wildly in the air, still wanting to grab those jade-like hands. But the dream continued entangling. This time it changed to a beauty in black clothes who threw a corpse at her feet with a bang, splashing her with bird-dropping-stinking corpse water. She wanted to vomit, couldn’t help mumbling curses: “Yelu Qi…”

His smile suddenly froze at his lips.

The air seemed compressed, so heavy even wind wouldn’t rise. He stared at her lips intently. She was panting with difficulty, a sentence struggling at her lips, wanting to speak but not speaking, like an unutterable matter of the heart.

The wait seemed very long but was actually short. His gaze, like his smile, dimmed inch by inch.

Then he pushed her away, stood up abruptly, and with a swoosh of the curtain, the snow-colored figure was gone.

As he left, Jing Hengbo coughed violently, finally choking out the phlegm blocking her throat, releasing the second half of her angry roar: “…you bastard!”

…

The next day, Jing Hengbo’s temperature dropped and she felt much better, cheerfully thanking Jing Jun: “Thank you for taking care of me last night.”

Jing Jun, who was embroidering nearby, hadn’t answered when she suddenly cried “ouch” and sucked her finger.

“What’s wrong?” Jing Hengbo leaned over to look.

“Nothing.” Jing Jun turned back with a flower-like smile. “No need to thank me. Taking care of you is my duty.”

Cui Jie, quietly feeding Feifei nearby, quietly looked up at Jing Jun.

Jing Hengbo noticed big dark circles under her eyes, clearly showing she hadn’t slept well. Chuckling, she patted her: “Next time you’re sick, I’ll stay up all night taking care of you!”

“Who curses people to get sick?” Jing Jun gently patted her hand and smiled, then sneezed when picking up her needle again.

“What? Caught a cold? The carriage is quite warm. Did I infect you?” Jing Hengbo felt somewhat guilty.

“Nothing like that. I went out last night for a bathroom break and got some wind. I’ll be fine after drinking ginger soup.” Jing Jun put down her embroidery hoop and got off the carriage to find ginger soup. After a while, she returned followed by a round-faced youth carrying a bowl of medicinal soup.

“This is a guard from the Glazed Glass tribe.” Jing Jun introduced. “He helped brew the medicine and said it was hot, so he volunteered to bring it over.”

She quietly leaned to her ear and whispered: “The person bringing medicine was searched three times. Really made things difficult for him.”

Jing Hengbo felt somewhat guilty hearing this, but the youth seemed completely unbothered, smiling at her innocently with pure eyes.

Jing Hengbo looked at him with great favor—the shota type!

The youth set down the medicine, bowed to her, and didn’t wait for her to say much before obediently withdrawing. Before getting off the carriage, he looked back at her once with warm eyes.

That glance made Jing Hengbo’s heart feel sour. Since transmigrating, she had wandered about, experiencing all manner of cold and warmth. Even she, this lively little cockroach, had been tormented to exhaustion. At this moment, this hidden concern in that glance was like a green sprout suddenly appearing in a desert, brightening her entire heart.

She raised her hand, covering the corner of her forehead, steadying herself for a moment. When she looked up again, she wore that same indifferent, flamboyant smile: “Hey! Someone actually came to see me.”

Cui Jie quietly looked up at her and silently sighed.

Jing Jun smiled: “Among the six kingdoms and eight tribes, quite a few people actually want to get close to you. After all, you are their new master. It’s just that the State Preceptor strictly forbids anyone from approaching you, so they don’t dare. If you ask me, if you have the energy, you should give people some opportunities, get close to your subjects. It will benefit you in the future.”

Jing Hengbo’s heart stirred. She felt this made a lot of sense. A Queen willing to be a puppet wasn’t a good Queen. The first step to seizing power was still to understand and approach subjects, divide and win them over—this was common in soap operas.

“Mm, I should get close to them,” she said.

“How about I bring them to meet you?” Jing Jun asked tentatively.

Jing Hengbo glanced at her, wondering why this sickly person was so enthusiastic today. Besides, this matter couldn’t be rushed. Just giving some kind responses would be enough. Actually engaging in secret liaisons would be inappropriate.

Jing Hengbo never planned to involve Jing Jun in these matters. She should just quietly rest and recover. Politics was something she’d better trust only herself with first. Moreover, Jing Jun was deep in thought—getting involved in these things might not be good for her.

“No need,” she said. “Just keep it casual.”

From that day on, she often saw guards from various tribes and vassal states around her carriage who would smile and bow to her. She would return their smiles, which often caused people to fall off their horses. Sometimes when she got out to walk around, she would encounter people bowing from afar, and she would nod back. She encountered most often that youth from the Glazed Glass tribe—that round-faced, honest youth who would always give her respectful glances from corners. He wouldn’t approach or deliberately try to make her notice him. When she did notice, he would bow from afar and flash a toothy smile. Every time this happened, Jing Hengbo would feel moved, finding it proper and kind. As this happened more often, when the two encountered each other, there naturally developed a warm understanding flowing between them.

When camping at night, she would receive handmade warming stoves or small ornaments with special local charm. Without asking, she knew they were all sent by that youth. She would smile, play with them for a while, then quietly put them away.

Once while walking, she accidentally got her heel stuck in the mud. She pulled for a long time before getting it out. At the time, there seemed to be no one around, but not long after, Cui Jie brought over a strange wooden contraption that looked like shoe covers, with one end raised high. She took off her shoe to compare and discovered it could actually be worn together with her high heels. When fitted over the bottom, it became flat. Though it looked quite strange overall, it was crafted very delicately and fit quite snugly.

She laughed so hard she fell backward—with this thing on, what kind of high heels were they still?

Cui Jie also laughed, and couldn’t help explaining for that child: “He said wearing this would make walking steady.”

Jing Hengbo suddenly stopped laughing, taking that superfluous shoe sole cover. It felt smooth to the touch with flowing lines, made of good materials with clearly good craftsmanship. What was most precious was that care and patience—the entire sole cover didn’t have a single wood splinter or knot. Actually, for something worn under shoes, who would care about wood splinters? But there weren’t any.

She couldn’t help laughing again. As she laughed, she wiped her eyes. Covering her eyes with her hand, she seemed to fall asleep. After a very long time, Cui Jie heard her murmur: “I really want to have a little brother, cling to him and make him support me for life…”

Cui Jie sighed and gently covered her with bedding.

Gong Yin seemed unaware of this, only coming near her carriage even less often. Sometimes when she lifted the curtain to search the convoy for a long time, she couldn’t find his figure. As a result, she slammed the curtain countless times, even deforming the fine golden threads.

She didn’t know that every time those people seeking favor left, Gong Yin’s carriage would receive a detailed report. What those people did, what they said, their attitudes toward her, whether there was any contact, and corresponding analysis—all clearly and plainly listed in reports.

Gong Yin always read very carefully, sometimes even making notes and comments. Often Meng Hu was also present, providing some on-scene references.

Fragmentary conversations scattered in the small space of the carriage.

“…After several days of observation and screening, there are about eleven suspicious persons, of which this one is most scheming…”

“Indeed quite deep in thought.”

“The Queen is still too kind…”

“…She’ll get used to it later… Pass my order, mobilize Dragon Cavalry and Eternal Fierce battalions to guard at Dige Mountain Pass.”

“…Master, two battalions are too conspicuous. Moving them now is inappropriate. Moreover, such harsh methods will also cause dissatisfaction among the six kingdoms and eight tribes…”

“You also said she’s actually still too kind, always willing to trust others… Without using Dragon Cavalry and Eternal Fierce battalions’ thunder to suppress those people and force out their true faces, who knows what might happen later?”

“Master’s intentions are profound… It’s just that those people are also quite scheming. I fear the Queen might misunderstand when the time comes…”

“Let her misunderstand. I do what I do. Why worry about so much… Meng Hu.”

“Subordinate is here.”

“At the welcoming ceremony, the so-called talent display—looking at her unlearned appearance, she definitely won’t pass. Have the people you arranged wait at Dige early. If there’s really no other way, take action…”

“Yes, subordinate will arrange it immediately.”

…

This day Jing Hengbo suddenly heard cheers outside. Yong Xue got off the carriage to check and soon poked her head in delightedly: “We’re almost there!”

Hearing this, Jing Hengbo quickly climbed to the window to look out, only to discover that somehow the ancient road was gone, the dense forest was gone, and the distant rolling black swamps were also gone. What appeared before her eyes was a mountain, seemingly split by heaven’s axe, with only a narrow path in the middle allowing two carriages to pass side by side. The mountain walls on both sides were nearly ninety degrees—all jagged cliffs where not even grass grew.

Though this mountain was treacherous, what attracted her gaze were the people.

In front of the mountain path, full of people.

All soldiers.

On the left, all in white clothes and white armor. Except for red tassels on helmets and red gems on belts, everything else was pure white. The half-body armor was rarely luxurious and rarely bright, with exquisite, light, and nimble styling. Arm guards were dragon-head shaped, shoulder and knee guards were white leather that seemed oiled, gleaming brightly from afar. Even the heart-protecting mirrors on their chests were inlaid with brilliant gems, blazingly dazzling.

Most warriors were young with tall, slender figures. Even from afar, they appeared spirited and vigorous. More than half were cavalry, carrying white-handled longbows on their backs, with red feathers in their quivers trembling slightly in the wind.

Beautiful!

So beautiful!

Besides hearing about armies in mourning white, Jing Hengbo had never heard of all-white armies in TV shows or legends. Armies crawled and rolled, ate and slept outdoors, fought and besieged cities—they did the dirtiest, most bitter, most tiring work. How could they dress snow-white and clean like going visiting? Unless they were ceremonial guards, but this army numbered at least ten thousand. Though calm and silent, they contained restrained killing intent. One could tell at a glance they weren’t flashy but useless show pieces.

Jing Hengbo’s eyes lit up, clinging to the window with drool streaming down, trembling with excitement—uniform temptation, oh uniform temptation! These handsome men were all under her command aaahhh, how would she manage in the future aaahhh. Should she frequently inspect and console the troops aaahhh.

Not far ahead of the carriage, Gong Yin seemed intentionally or unintentionally to glance back at her, seeing this person trembling at the window.

He paused, looked away, and lowered his eyelashes.

His gaze was slightly cold.

…Incorrigible bad habits!

After trembling for a while, Jing Hengbo’s gaze reluctantly withdrew from that batch of young, handsome, eye-catching white troops and fell on the other half of the forces.

The other half of the army was all black.

Black clothes, black armor, with heavy, dense coloring. But this army wasn’t as refined and luxurious as the nearby white army. Though fully equipped with clothing and armor, many had mottled armor covered in sword cuts—seemingly mementos from countless battles. The more forward-standing officers had older armor with more blade marks. The one standing at the very front simply wore a half-armor over his bare torso. The armor had no particular marks, but half an ear was missing.

Those various new and old, layered sword marks emanated thick blood scent and killing intent. The entire army’s silence was completely different from the white army’s silence. The latter gave feelings of quiet and discipline, while this force gave feelings of lurking wildness, suppressed bloodlust, bloody wild desire about to roar forth with mad blades in the next moment!

One white, one black, with distinct colors. Like two solemn great banners silently planted on the last road entering Dige City.

Or like winding, descending dragon wilderness snow, covering mountain slopes in pristine white.

For that instant, emotions of shock, oppression, unease, and fear suddenly arose. The entire convoy escorting the Queen showed rare silence.

Then as if suddenly awakened by heavenly snow, with a roar, everyone let out irrepressible exclamations.

“Jade Guard Army! Jade Guard Dragon Cavalry!”

“Kang Long Army! Kang Long Eternal Fierce Battalion!”

“Heavens, the two strongest armies under Master Gong!”

“And the two strongest battalions of both armies!”

“What does Master Gong want to do? Dragon Cavalry didn’t even deploy during this Dige rebellion. Let alone Eternal Fierce Battalion, which is practically Dahuang’s ace. Since three years ago during the Dige Palace change, when Eternal Fierce Battalion deployed a small squad and beheaded the rebel Tortoiseshell King in the throne room, exterminating his family—how long has it been since they appeared? Just to welcome this Queen? Is it worth it?”

“Silence! Have you forgotten the Dige change is taboo!”

“Oh my… I was scared and forgot! Who would think we’d actually see Eternal Fierce Battalion and Dragon Cavalry here…”

…

The scattered voices reached Gong Yin’s ears. He remained indifferent, but his eyes quietly turned again to fall on Jing Hengbo.

This woman was sometimes bold, sometimes timid. Now that she’d seen the killing intent and reputation of Eternal Fierce Battalion, which could stop children’s crying at night, what would her reaction be? Would she, like those people from the six kingdoms and eight tribes, wet her pants in fear?

He saw Jing Hengbo’s wide-open eyes, her naturally seductive eyes stretched open, pupils like a pair of agate beads.

What kind of expression was this? Shocked beyond measure?

Gong Yin frowned slightly, suddenly remembering her health wasn’t very good. If this frightened her…

He moved slightly, then stopped, fingers gripping the reins as his expression darkened somewhat.

Forget it.

She’d probably prefer to see Yelu Qi’s concern!

His body stopped moving, his gaze sweeping again. Just then, Jing Hengbo wiped her nose and suddenly slapped the window frame.

“Holy shit! Hunks! So many hunks! Cool! As! Hell!”

“…”

Meng Hu looked uneasily at Gong Yin, who had suddenly frozen like a statue, quietly edging a step away.

…

After panting for a while, Jing Hengbo tumbled down from the window with a thud, tightly covering her nose: “Can’t look anymore, can’t look anymore. If I keep looking, I’ll really get a nosebleed. My god, if I’d known this Queen had so many handsome army men under her command, why would I have run…”

“Those aren’t your armies,” Cui Jie poured cold water. “Didn’t you hear? These are the two great armies under State Preceptor Gong. Who knows what they plan to do, deploying here to guard this mountain pass today.”

“What do they plan to do?” Jing Hengbo said dismissively. “This is the last mountain pass entering Dige. After this is open plains—it’s Dige City’s natural barrier against foreign enemies. Gong Yin is probably afraid someone will ambush him here, so he simply deployed armies in advance to guard every possible ambush spot in this valley.”

Cui Jie thought about it and nodded in agreement.

“But I think Gong Yin might have other plans too.” Jing Hengbo clung to the carriage side. “Should I go down to accompany him?”

“It’s windy outside. Besides, the State Preceptor doesn’t like you getting off the carriage casually. How about I go ask?” Jing Jun put down her embroidery hoop and got off the carriage. Jing Hengbo pursed her lips, cursed “dictator,” and lay down boredly.

Jing Jun walked lightly to Gong Yin’s side.

Seeing her approach, Gong Yin somewhat didn’t want to ask, but after thinking, still said quite casually: “Is Her Majesty in the carriage?”

“Yes.” Jing Jun smiled and nodded. “Her Majesty is in very good spirits.”

Gong Yin’s expression darkened slightly—of course she was in good spirits, she’d seen hunks.

“The State Preceptor is truly cautious in his actions.” Jing Jun smiled. “This is the last mountain pass entering Dige, right? After this it’s open plains. This mountain must be Dige City’s natural barrier against foreign enemies. You’ve deployed armies in advance to guard all possible ambush positions here, so presumably no one can pull any tricks here anymore.”

Gong Yin looked at her somewhat surprised.

“Though anyone with slight military knowledge could see and do this, for you as a woman to think this far is quite good.” He casually praised, then seemed even more casually to say: “What does Her Majesty think? We still have matters to handle later. Ask her if she wants to get off the carriage and come to my side.”

“Her Majesty lay down after viewing the armies.” Jing Jun laughed lightly. “She said she was very tired and told us all not to disturb her.”

Gong Yin pressed his lips slightly, glanced at her, then suddenly said: “I used you these past days. My apologies.”

He spoke stiffly, but Jing Jun’s face immediately bloomed with light, smiling radiantly: “How dare this humble woman accept the State Preceptor’s apology. Hengbo is originally my benefactor and friend. Let alone shielding her from disaster a few times—even dying for her, this humble woman would be willing.”

The last four words were bitten out decisively and clearly. Gong Yin couldn’t help glancing at her.

In the late summer wind, the young woman was smiling as she raised her face. Her face was small and white with a round chin, like a gentle lotus sleeping in a green pool. Her complexion, slightly pale from long illness, was tinged with faint flush, adding some charm. Of course, such beauty wasn’t striking—far from Jing Hengbo’s captivating appearance—but it excelled in the unique softness and gentleness of water-town women, making one feel that such delicacy was also beautiful, beautiful in forbearance, unable to receive care and protection, thus timidly blooming in the world.

But Jing Jun felt somewhat vexed.

She had applied rouge, adjusted to the best angle, said the most moving words, chosen the best timing, yet at this moment discovered it was all wasted effort.

She was a lotus flower in water unable to withstand cool wind, and he was truly that cool wind or flowing water. His gaze flowed over her face like water, carrying no emotion, making no pause.

She smiled even more purely, determinedly different from Jing Hengbo’s flamboyance.

“Very good.” Gong Yin’s mind was still on her words, nodding with satisfaction. “Since you know gratitude, I hope that no matter what happens in the future, you can always loyally stay by her side.” He glanced at her again. “As long as you do this, you won’t be mistreated.”

She bit her lip and nodded, her expression shy yet joyful, appearing even more pitiably graceful than before.

But he had already turned his face away. “You may go.”

Jing Jun took a breath, bowed properly, said nothing more, and immediately left.

“Wait.”

She turned back full of hope.

But he hesitated somewhat, thinking before saying: “If she’s surprised and misunderstands later, tell her… not to be afraid.”

Jing Jun closed her eyes slightly and smiled: “Alright.”

…

“What did Gong Yin say?” As soon as Jing Jun got on the carriage, the seemingly sleeping Jing Hengbo asked.

“The State Preceptor didn’t say much,” Jing Jun replied. “Just asked Her Majesty not to move around casually, not to disturb him, not to interfere with his affairs.”

“Who’s interfering with his affairs!” Jing Hengbo immediately threw her pillow, angrily turning to face away from the carriage window. “Do whatever you want!”

Cui Jie came to tuck in her blanket corner but was irritably pushed away.

Her eyes had just closed when she suddenly heard huge commotion outside. It sounded like many people running, footsteps quickly passing her carriage, followed by the sound of galloping hooves, approaching like thunder from afar, reaching nearby in an instant. Human voices exploded like thunder, instantly shattering the previous tranquility.

“What’s happening?” She sat up sharply, seeing the pale faces of Cui Jie and the other two at the window. She quickly moved to the window, but before she could see clearly outside, suddenly “splurt”—a spray of fresh blood bloomed like fireworks before her eyes, splashing onto the emerald bamboo silk curtain. The sticky blood clung to the bamboo gaps, leaving only a field of bright red before her eyes.

Cui Jie and Jing Jun were screaming. Yong Xue tightly pressed her lips, gripping the carriage rail tightly, but her expression remained calm. Jing Hengbo’s face was pale as snow.

“What are you screaming about!” But she only froze for a moment, then sternly shouted: “Quick, get cloth to clean the curtain! Also, close the carriage door tight!”

The three women hurriedly followed her orders. Jing Hengbo found the cleaning too slow and simply tore down the curtain and threw it away. Only then could she see the chaos outside. The guards of the six kingdoms and eight tribes were all running about in disorder. The black and white armies emerged from the valley like twin dragons, flanking from left and right. Not far ahead, someone was efficiently killing people—white blade in, red blade out.

“Is it a military revolt?” Jing Hengbo murmured, then started in alarm, urgently saying: “Gong Yin! Where’s Gong Yin!”