A group of barefoot, white-robed people walked across the wilderness, moving farther and farther from Jing Hengbo’s direction.
These people had been walking for a long time, their gait, pace, and stride length always the same. From a distance, they looked like a group of snow-white puppets pulled along by straight lines.
They were getting closer and closer to the direction of Chentie Pass.
Before seeing Chentie Pass itself, they first saw the beacon fires that had been lit, then the Mo Army.
The barefoot white-robed man in the lead was extremely tall, with long hair hanging loose rather than in a topknot. At first glance it appeared black, but from certain angles it seemed to be a hidden gray color.
He had a face that could be called handsome, yet completely bloodless, with an expression of nearly crystallized coldness and indifference.
At the pass where beacon fires burned, the city gates suddenly opened and a large group of soldiers poured out. The Mo Army here watched silently, everyone’s hands falling to their weapons.
The barefoot white-robed man also watched from afar. Standing on high ground, he could see through the Mo Army’s formation that between the Mo Army and the pass there were two lonely human figures. His gaze fell on one of these figures, and something like ghostly flames seemed to flicker in the depths of his eyes.
He saw that more people than expected had emerged from the pass—it seemed to be another organized military unit. Those people charged out aggressively, and one of the two figures rode out to meet them.
Then changes occurred. Those originally hostile forces began to salute, put away their weapons, change formation, and the half-closed city gates opened wide in preparation to welcome the two men into the city.
Meanwhile, the dark mass of the Mo Army silently pressed forward.
The barefoot white-robed man watched and suddenly said, “Gong Yin.”
The people behind him lowered their eyelashes.
“Famous for so long, yet we’ve never met face to face. When he came down from the mountain, I was in seclusion.” The barefoot white-robed man said flatly. “This is the person Xu Pingran exhausted all her efforts trying to control? He looks nothing special.”
“Sir,” someone behind him said, “Madam…”
“Don’t call her Madam,” the barefoot white-robed man interrupted. “An outsider woman who usurped the nest and harbors ulterior motives—how can she be called Madam? How can she become the mistress of my Murong clan? Do you think she’s really the sister-in-law that I, Murong Zhen, acknowledge?”
Though his tone remained emotionless, the people around him couldn’t help but step back.
“I know you fear her, because she just demoted me from Snow Mountain at the elder council meeting, citing my incompetent work.” A mocking smile appeared at the corner of Murong Zhen’s lips. “But how do you know I didn’t do it deliberately?”
Everyone listened silently.
“We haven’t seen the Sect Master for five years now,” Murong Zhen said expressionlessly. “Elder councils, deliberation meetings, annual sect gatherings—he never attends. They say he’s practicing the Great Ruyi Technique, that six years of seclusion will bring perfection, that he cannot be disturbed by anything during seclusion—all of this is what Xu Pingran says. Who has actually seen him?”
Everyone still dared not respond. This involved the highest power struggle within the Nine Heavens Gate—one wrong word could mean death.
“This time I came down from Snow Mountain because I suddenly understood a principle,” Murong Zhen said. “Xu Pingran has been in control on Snow Mountain for years. Spending time with her there will only continuously weaken my own strength. Better to leave Snow Mountain and form alliances elsewhere.”
His subordinates wondered who in this world could be an ally to a Heavenly Gate Elder.
“You’ve forgotten someone,” Murong Zhen’s lips curved in a mysterious smile. “This person left Snow Mountain very early and has been wandering outside ever since. Xu Pingran has been working hard to prevent his return, and he simply doesn’t return. I originally thought it was because he was cowardly, but now I finally understand—his thinking is the same as mine. He’s unwilling to remain on Snow Mountain suffering Xu Pingran’s coercion and weakening, preferring to strengthen himself in the vast world outside.”
“You mean the next generation Sect…” someone suddenly understood.
Others disagreed. With Madam there, could that person who had been sent down the mountain early to “experience the mortal world” really succeed in returning to Snow Mountain and taking over the great enterprise?
“I’ve already contacted that person,” Murong Zhen told his trusted followers. “He told me that Gong Yin is a very important figure, because Xu Pingran has placed all her ambitions on Gong Yin. And her ambitions don’t stop at just Snow Mountain.”
His subordinates thought—wasn’t being the Sect Master’s wife of Heavenly Gate already the most noble position in this world? What more could Madam be thinking about? Could it be worldly power? But worldly positions are so filthy and corrupt—are they worth pursuing?
Murong Zhen looked at their expressions, seeming to guess their thoughts, with faint mockery in his eyes. “Don’t forget that Xu Pingran isn’t from our Heavenly Gate background—she doesn’t have such noble and pure heart-cultivation traditions. She comes from Kunlun Palace, and before coming from Kunlun Palace, who knows what her background was? In your eyes, Heavenly Gate is infinitely pure and noble, untainted by worldly dust, but perhaps she doesn’t think so? Perhaps what she’s thinking of is exactly this world’s glory and splendor?”
Before anyone could show understanding, he looked into the distance again. “No matter what she thinks, Heavenly Gate cannot continue to be controlled by her. That person said Gong Yin is crucial—seizing him means seizing Xu Pingran’s weakness… So, I want to try.”
At this moment, the Mo Army ahead was already charging, blocking Gong Yin and Tie Xinze from entering the pass.
Murong Zhen watched the slaughter coldly, watching that group of soldiers who had come out to meet them protect Gong Yin and Tie Xinze as they retreated toward the city. Watching how Gong Yin hadn’t made a move since that earth-shaking arrow, a faint smile crossed his lips.
“His vital energy is weak.”
After saying this, he suddenly removed the pure white hemp robe he wore and stepped into the blood-stained battlefield, casually picking up armor from a dead Mo Army soldier and putting it on, then walking into the army.
…
Jing Hengbo’s prison cart rolled across the land of Daimao.
Having learned his lesson, Ming Yan’an changed from his previous smugness and arrogance to begin moving stealthily and low-key. After that, the army almost never passed through major towns and markets, only choosing routes through mountain wilderness.
The decoration of Jing Hengbo’s prison cart was also repeatedly modified. Initially there had been concern for beauty and ostentation, but later only safety and security mattered. Locks were added one after another to the prison cart until finally four locks were needed to open the cart door.
Because they traveled through wilderness instead of main roads, and because security work was constantly being upgraded, much time had to be spent each day scouting ahead, arranging scouts, and investigating rear routes. The procession’s speed inevitably slowed down. With continuous marching and overly tense emotions, the soldiers also appeared especially exhausted. After repeatedly requesting rest and being denied, the soldiers automatically slowed their pace and seized every opportunity to rest. Ming Yan’an and Chai Yu were anxious, constantly urging and even punishing several squad leaders for this, but the law doesn’t punish the masses. Even the generals said that after the long expedition, the soldiers were exhausted to the extreme and couldn’t be overworked lest it trigger a mutiny with serious consequences. Hearing this, Ming Yan’an didn’t dare push further, but his heart was anxious. He often lay in his carriage throwing tantrums. Everyone knew that since his stroke, his temper and character were much worse than before, so they didn’t come close to invite trouble. Only Chai Yu spoke gently and warmly, thinking of everything thoughtfully. Because of this, Ming Yan’an became even more dependent on her. The two spent their days nestled in that comfortable and safe huge carriage, playing chess and reading, with fragrant sleeves adding incense. It was quite comfortable, but those soldiers walking in mud and rugged mountain paths would occasionally glance up at that luxurious carriage, and a glint of sinister emotion would flash in their eyes.
Jing Hengbo appeared completely at ease, eating and sleeping, occasionally even requesting some wine and appetizers. She didn’t cause drunken scenes and seemed very cooperative. She loved gnawing bones, wanting smoked fish, duck wings, duck feet and such for her appetizers. People often heard her gnawing bones late at night, crunching like a mouse. She even sentimentally requested to have a couple of flower pots placed in the prison cart, saying that looking at flowers and plants would improve her mood. Where could flower pots be found on a military march? Finally Chai Yu had people find some extremely hardy tiger claw vines to decorate the cart bars. These tiger claw vines were indeed hardy—before long they had grown over half the cart wall, looking green all over and quite pleasing to the eye.
Though she was quiet, not everyone was quiet. Her guards grew more tense day by day. The closer they got to the three counties and Shangyuan, the more bloodshot their eyes became.
On the second day of the procession, a group of assassins attacked the convoy.
Though called assassins, they only targeted Jing Hengbo. Jing Hengbo remained unhurried, gnawing a chicken leg while watching her guards fight bloody battles with the attackers, falling one after another in pools of blood.
Coincidentally, when these people died, they all fell facing Jing Hengbo, collapsing under her cart, looking like loyal guards who had died for their master.
Those people lay under the cart, their waist keys soaking in pools of blood. The blood flowed quietly like a red mirror, vaguely seeming to reflect a flash of white shadow.
The assassins were finally beaten back. After all, Ming Yan’an had superior numbers. Ming Yan’an hid in his carriage, watching those black figures disappear hastily into the horizon, his face gloomy.
No need to investigate where the assassins came from—nine times out of ten they were from his Fifteen Gangs “allies.”
The guards watching Jing Hengbo lost a batch, so naturally they had to be replaced. The new replacements removed keys from their comrades’ corpses, cleaned and checked them, then tied them to their own waists.
The Fifteen Gangs’ assassins came twice more. Once they went straight for the prison cart, swords and blades all out, hacking fiercely at the cart but only producing a stream of sparks—Ming Yan’an laughed loudly from inside the cart, his voice mocking: “Thousand-year white iron, unbreakable by swords and blades. Hack for eight hundred years and if you make one notch, I’ll submit to you!”
The assassins retreated sullenly again. By this time the procession had nearly reached Judian County.
Judian County was now surrounded by the allied forces of Ming Yan’an and the Fifteen Gangs, besieging Jing Hengbo’s Halberd Army. The Halberd Army hadn’t lost much military strength, but trapped in Judian County with insufficient food and no leadership, they could barely maintain resistance without surrendering—which was already remarkable.
It was said that inside the city, led by the remaining Tian Qi, along with Zirui and the great scholar Chang Fang and other civil officials, all had personally gone up to the city walls to fight, defending Judian to the death while waiting for their queen’s return.
This made Ming Yan’an laugh happily. He had long looked forward to seeing what expressions those stubborn Halberd Army soldiers would have when they saw he had captured Jing Hengbo.
Judian County faced Shangyuan City directly. Ming Yan’an had already ordered the city opened in advance, ten li of red carpet laid, and high platforms of fresh flowers erected. He wanted to receive the Halberd Army’s surrender before his own city, and also to execute the last person who dared compete with him for position before his own city!
He also sent news of capturing Jing Hengbo to Judian and all surrounding towns and markets. He believed this sensational news would attract many people to verify the answer.
So when the prison cart arrived, the long official road outside the city was already packed with people, and Judian’s walls were also full of soldiers. Those soldiers, yellow and thin from lack of food, supported themselves on their weapons, gazing toward the road below the city, not knowing whether they feared or hoped, waiting for their queen’s figure.
Jing Hengbo’s prison cart was now hard to see into because of the dense growth of tiger claw vines, making everyone even more anxiously speculative as they followed the army running forward.
The prison cart stopped below Judian City, with crowds of people on all sides, yet now it was quiet as death.
On the city walls, Tian Qi stared with anxious wide eyes, leaning forward to look down. Zirui’s face was deathly pale, her hands gripping the crenellations tightly. Chang Fang and others, supported shakily by soldiers, stared at the prison cart with eyes full of disbelief.
Ming Yan’an’s general Huang Gang personally stepped forward to shout, “Listen, Halberd Army! Your Queen has already surrendered to us! Why do you persist in hopeless resistance? Quickly lay down your weapons! Delay means death—”
“Bullshit!” A thunderous roar came from the walls—ten thousand soldiers answering in unison. “With your master’s turtle-like cowardly appearance, how could he be worthy of capturing our Queen?”
“Jing Hengbo.” Ming Yan’an approached the prison cart with an iron-blue face, surrounded by layers of guards, struggling to make out Jing Hengbo’s face through the tiger claw vines, saying grimly, “You also see what condition the people on the walls are in. If you don’t speak up, even if I don’t attack, starvation alone could kill them. Are you really willing to let these people who came for you and devoted their hearts’ blood to you starve to death before your eyes?”
No sound came from the prison cart. After a long moment, Jing Hengbo’s lazy laugh was heard.
“Yes,” she laughed, “starving to death is very unpleasant.”
“Indeed.” Ming Yan’an said coldly. “Well? Still thinking about how to phrase it? This king has already prepared a surrender document for you—just read it as written.”
“No need,” Jing Hengbo said with a smile. “I’ll do it myself.”
She suddenly sat up straight, pushed aside the tiger claw vine leaves, and stuck her face out. Before the people on the walls could see clearly, she shouted loudly, “Hey! I’m back! Quickly come out of the city…”
Ming Yan’an’s lips began to curve in a smile, waiting to hear the word “surrender.”
He squinted, seeming to see the beautiful scene to come: the great army offering the city, execution of Jing Hengbo before all, and himself on the high platform at the end of the red carpet formally addressing all the people of Daimao.
Then Jing Hengbo’s last few words reached his ears.
“…and fight!”
For an instant, Ming Yan’an felt a “boom” in his ears, as if he couldn’t hear anything, as if he couldn’t understand anything. Then he heard “fight fight fight fight” constantly cycling in his ears. He felt hot blood surge in his chest, his temples pounding, golden stars flashing before his eyes. Instinctively he reached out and touched Chai Yu’s arm.
He glanced at this woman who always reached out to support him in time. Before he could smile gratefully, the fury in his chest was already blazing. He whirled around to glare at Jing Hengbo.
With a thunderous sound, Judian’s city gates opened. Tian Qi really did lead the Halberd Army charging out, a dark mass of troops treading on the lowered drawbridge, crossing the moat with a momentum that was chaotic yet magnificent as they surged forth.
The Shangyuan army all stood stupefied in place.
No one had expected that the queen who had agreed to persuade surrender would shout such words at this moment.
No one had expected that the queen, herself trapped and with her life and death in others’ hands, would dare to encourage soldiers to risk everything at such a moment.
Didn’t she know that the moment the great army left the city would be the moment of her death?
Had she already resolved to die?
Chai Yu was commanding soldiers to form battle lines. Ming Yan’an’s furious shouts had already spread across the battlefield.
“Kill this vile woman!”
With rattling sounds, Jing Hengbo’s prison cart, which had already been fitted with mechanisms, was quickly pulled back into Ming Yan’an’s army. Shangyuan troops surged forward like a tide, blocking the charging Halberd Army and also blocking Jing Hengbo’s prison cart.
Jing Hengbo’s prison cart was pulled into the center of the battle formation, where soldiers stepped aside to clear a space. Hoofbeats rang urgently as two teams of prepared cavalry galloped over, surrounding the cart in circles. The mounted soldiers each took prepared fire arrows from attendants beside them, aiming at the prison cart.
Several soldiers rushed to the prison cart carrying large amounts of fire oil and splashed it on the cart.
“Pop.” A sound came as a large net sprang open from the cart top—another barrier to prevent Jing Hengbo’s escape.
Fire arrows blazed on bowstrings, the smell of fire oil so strong it could be detected three li away. The firelight illuminated the specially laid red carpet, its red glow bright as a royal road of death stained with blood.
Battle cries whistled ahead as soldiers from both sides clashed fiercely, but here in the center of the battle formation was an eerie quiet, with only the crackling sounds of flames.
Ming Yan’an’s somewhat unsteady laughter spread across the battlefield.
“Vile woman! You think with one shout before the battle lines, those starving ghosts can rescue you? Dream on! Heaven offers a path but you won’t take it, hell has no gates yet you come of your own accord. Look, soon countless blades will spring from your carriage, piercing your body. Then fire arrows will fly in volleys, the heavenly net will descend, and even if you were an immortal, you’d be burned to ash. Burning a queen before ten thousand troops! You can go first. Soon your group of Halberd Army starvelings will come to join you!”
There seemed to be some movement in the tiger claw vines, with iron chains clanking. Ming Yan’an’s lip-corner smile turned cruel—anxious now? Finally anxious? Too bad, being anxious and regretful now is too late.
Willfulness always comes with a price!
If the Halberd Army couldn’t be persuaded to surrender, then kill them. Burning a rebel before ten thousand troops would equally enable him to intimidate all of Daimao from now on!
His mood blazed like fire, his heart beat like drums. In excitement and elation he trembled as he instinctively spurred his horse to gallop beside the prison cart.
He wanted to personally watch that vile woman struggle and wail in the prison cart, screaming until death!
He slowly raised his hand, deliberately dropping it inch by inch, wanting to prolong this torment, to make that vile woman’s agony and fear before death more vivid and profound. Best she take this memory to hell and not dare oppose him even as a ghost!
But his hand suddenly felt somewhat stiff and numb. His heart jumped as he felt his chest tighten, his face tense, his shoulders somewhat rigid—as if over-excited and stimulated, with signs of another stroke.
This thought hadn’t finished forming when his hand had already dropped rapidly beyond his control.
“Release arrows!”
…