The wind in Jin territory was very strong. Han Zhi could hear the sound of arrows cutting past his ears, making his heart panic. He didn’t know how much time had passed when Guan Shan finally squeezed to his side, crying out “Young Master,” bending down to carry him on his back, struggling to escape with him.

In this life, Han Zhi had never encountered anyone who treated him well in such a pure way. His birth seemed to be a mistake. When counted up, he and his younger sister had never truly enjoyed anyone’s genuine care for them. Madam Fan’s kindness toward them was honey laced with arsenic, wishing they would never open their eyes again after consuming it. Han Zhengqing’s kindness had always stopped short. Lady Fan loved them but never dared express it, only burying it in her heart.

Truly counted up from beginning to end, those who treated him best were only Guan Shan and Guan Hai.

These two brothers had grown up with him, staying by his side through sadness and disappointment, all the way fleeing to Fujian. Guan Hai had even given his life just so he could live. Now lying on Guan Shan’s back, in his daze he felt his head burning hot and his eyes aching. Suddenly choking up somewhat, he sobbed and told him: “Guan Shan, put me down.”

Guan Shan refused, drenched in sweat as he carried him, walking with unsteady steps. The wind and sand in Jin territory were strong—opening his mouth meant getting a mouthful of sand. He paid no attention, like a stubborn ox: “Young Master, don’t be afraid. I will definitely take you away from here.”

Han Zhi had no strength left. He hadn’t done many good deeds, but at this moment, he unexpectedly and for the first time wanted to do one good deed before dying. Using what strength he had, he shouted: “Listen! I’m telling you to stop!”

Guan Shan was like an injured yak, panting heavily as he walked a few more steps. Finally, he still obeyed Han Zhi’s words and stopped in his tracks. He had never been able to go against Han Zhi’s intentions.

Han Zhi smiled with relief, turned around, and with all his effort made a gesture toward the Prince of Zhennan’s people whose figures he couldn’t clearly see.

This gesture he had never made before—it was the posture of surrender.

Guan Shan’s eyes were already red. He wanted to cry but didn’t dare, biting the back of his hand, his heart terribly sour.

Sun Ergou had long hidden himself in the ranks behind the Prince of Zhennan. Now seeing the Prince of Zhennan look over, he stepped forward a few paces, still concealing himself in the crowd: “Already injured—he must know he can’t run far.”

The Prince of Zhennan wanted to keep them alive. These guilty people—keeping them alive to be dealt with back in the capital would obviously make Emperor Jianzhang and the common people of the realm feel more vindicated. Therefore, without much deliberation, he waved his hand at his men, and naturally someone captured both Han Zhi and Guan Shan together.

As for the others like Colonel Wang, no one was kept alive. These people had followed Han Zhengqing in letting the Tartars through the passes and oppressing their own countrymen. People like this—no one wanted them alive.

The Prince of Zhennan personally led Sun Ergou back to the city through the night, first meeting up with Marquis Dingyuan.

After learning that Sun Ergou was one of Song Chuyi’s people, Marquis Dingyuan was quite shocked. He never imagined this Crown Princess Consort was so formidable. But he was also a clever person who knew that speaking of this now was absolutely not the right time. He agreed with the Prince of Zhennan’s approach to first bring Sun Ergou back to see Cui Shaoting.

Still, there was some emotion in his heart. He hadn’t expected that the one who ultimately and quietly reduced Han Zhengqing to this state was actually Han Zhengqing’s biological son. Even more unexpected was that this Han Zhi was a puppet manipulated by Song Chuyi. Song Chuyi had allowed him to develop and grow strong, allowed him to harbor infinite malice toward Han Zhengqing, and finally had Han Zhi push Han Zhengqing into an irredeemable situation.

It was already very late. Everyone rested for the night, and the next day the Prince of Zhennan personally led Sun Ergou to find Cui Shaoting.

Cui Shaoting was also quite shocked to hear the news that Jingzhou had been breached. He had never expected that Jingzhou would be the easiest to break through. Only after seeing Sun Ergou did he understand the reason.

Sun Ergou was still afraid of Cui Shaoting. Rubbing his palms together, he called out “General,” then hung his head, not quite daring to speak.

Although in their private hearts they all felt Song Chuyi was even more frightening than Cui Shaoting, in truth they really weren’t very afraid of Song Chuyi. Ordinarily getting along with her was like family—they could say whatever they wanted without reservation. But facing Cui Shaoting, fear was still the predominant feeling.

Cui Shaoting waved his hand, telling him to sit down. After asking clearly that he had gone to Fujian after leaving Jinzhong, he couldn’t help but also feel that Song Chuyi was too calculating—even such long-ago matters had been factored into her schemes.

But this was excellent news! He had Sun Ergou go back to rest. Seeing the Prince of Zhennan lift the tent flap and enter, he rubbed his eyes, unable to contain his joy: “It won’t be long now!”

The Prince of Zhennan was equally delighted. Sitting down across from him, he drank a mouthful of water and nodded: “Exactly. Only when we actually fought did we realize how quickly it would go. The days just whooshed by.”

Having finished with Han Zhengqing, next was Prince Gong. Prince Gong’s side would also be easy to deal with—with Huang Yiqing ahead of them, under attack from both sides, Prince Gong, who was already like a startled bird, simply couldn’t withstand battle. With this troublemaker Han Zhengqing dealt with first, Prince Gong appeared utterly vulnerable.

And after finishing with Prince Gong, the greatest worry would be Zijing Pass.

Thinking of Zijing Pass, the Prince of Zhennan stared wide-eyed and asked Cui Shaoting: “Has Yecha been found too?”

Yecha was an extremely key figure. If this person fell into their hands, he would be capital for negotiating with the Tartars. Being able to negotiate would be good—after all, the Tartar cavalry were truly difficult to deal with.

Yet Great Zhou had been through internal troubles and external threats and was now at its weakest. If the Tartars struck with all their might, whether Great Zhou could withstand it was truly uncertain. Even if they could withstand it, the losses would be enormous.

A trace of barely perceptible anxiety floated in Cui Shaoting’s eyes: “There’s been some movement. Still searching.”

Saying “still searching” was actually equivalent to saying they were searching like they’d turned heaven and earth upside down. Han Yu and Lu Ran led people in what seemed like madness, searching day and night, almost driving Yecha to the point of hanging himself.

Wanting to leave the city—now they simply wouldn’t let anyone out. Wanting to slip away—walking ten or so steps down the street, there were patrol sentries. Yecha truly felt he had run out of options. Shrinking in someone’s vegetable cellar, he finished eating even the last cabbage. After enduring two more days, he finally couldn’t bear it anymore. He emerged from the vegetable cellar planning to get something to eat.

Who knew the household’s master would be exceptionally alert? In the dead of night, they still woke up upon hearing the slightest sound. Waking up and discovering him, they kept shouting on their own, finally attracting the sentries patrolling the streets through the night.

Yecha’s first thought in his heart was actually regret—genuine regret. He had listened to Han Zhengqing’s words and come to Qingzhou Prefecture, planning to pass through Suzhou to meet up with Han Zhengqing in Jingzhou. If he hadn’t listened to Han Zhengqing and had instead single-mindedly attacked Zijing Pass, by now he would have already attacked right up to the capital’s doorstep. How would he have fallen to this current state, becoming someone’s prisoner? He was the Grand Preceptor of the Tartars!