Ling Ziyue’s expression changed as he gulped down several mouthfuls of water. “You’re right!” he exclaimed.

He couldn’t let this setback stop him. In the past, even with attachments, he had been able to disregard life and death. Now, with nothing holding him back, there was even less reason to give up.

Mei Yanran admired Ling Ziyue’s resilient spirit but felt that those capable of great love often seemed emotionally detached.

An Jiu, however, found his reaction satisfactory, proving worthy of the protection so many had provided him.

“Hiding in the jungle isn’t a long-term solution,” Sui Yunzhu suggested. “Once things calm down a bit, we should leave as soon as possible.”

Everyone agreed. Their goal wasn’t merely survival; they needed to understand the situation outside.

In the Liao capital of Shangjing, snow blanketed the palace rooftops.

Yelü Huangwu stood outside the hall, dressed in black fur with only her dark purple sleeves and skirt hem visible. She gazed absentmindedly at the icicles hanging from the eaves.

“It’s been a while, Awu,” a clear voice called out.

Yelü Huangwu turned to see a handsome man in dark red robes approaching gracefully. Tall and slender, he wore a fox-fur hat that accentuated his ethereal demeanor.

It was Yelü Jinglie, the Prince of the Northern Court of Liao.

“Uncle,” Yelü Huangwu greeted him with a faint smile, briefly revealing a girlish expression.

Yelü Jinglie’s usual stern demeanor softened as he patted her head. “It’s been over a decade since I last saw you. You’ve grown into quite a beauty. The brave warriors of Great Liao must be fighting over you!”

Though their actual age difference was only eight or nine years, Yelü Jinglie’s youthful appearance made them look more like siblings.

“Uncle, you’re still such a tease,” Yelü Huangwu replied playfully. “It’s been eleven years, yet you recognized me instantly. You’ve missed me more than anyone else in Great Liao.”

At fifteen, she had been exiled for privately building an army. Officially, she was mourning Empress Dowager Xiao, but in reality, she was under house arrest.

“Even after several more decades, I’d recognize my niece in an instant,” Yelü Jinglie said wistfully. “Awu, you resemble the Empress Dowager, especially after fulfilling your filial duties for so many years. Your bearing has become remarkably similar to hers.”

Empress Dowager Xiao had once held great power in Liao. Yelü Jinglie’s words were meant to put Yelü Huangwu in a difficult position.

Yelü Huangwu understood his implication and smiled faintly. “I have no desire to toil my entire life as my mother did. I’m content to inherit some of her beauty and hopefully find a good husband in the future.”

“Ha! Awu, what admirable aspirations,” Yelü Jinglie laughed heartily.

Though the atmosphere appeared harmonious, a subtle power struggle was unfolding. The two had clashed several times a decade earlier, but Yelü Huangwu had been young then, talented but lacking influence in Liao. Now, circumstances had changed. Yelü Jinglie had long coveted the throne, while Yelü Huangwu had become the current emperor’s right hand. If they were to clash again, it would be far more serious than their previous skirmishes.

“What were you looking at earlier, Awu?” Yelü Jinglie inquired.

“The icicles,” she replied, gesturing to the glistening formations on the eaves. “I heard that in Southern Song, it only snowed once this winter, on the day Ling Ziyue was executed. There hasn’t been a drop of rain since spring began. Truly, heaven favors our Great Liao!”

“Indeed, heaven favors Great Liao!” Yelü Jinglie agreed, though inwardly concerned. The new emperor’s position wasn’t yet secure, and most tribes still supported Jinglie. However, if they achieved unprecedented victories against Song, the domestic situation could become unpredictable, making it even more challenging to seize power.

As they spoke, a eunuch hurried over and bowed. “Princess, Prince, His Majesty requests your presence.”

The two nodded and followed the eunuch into the hall.

Inside, a faint medicinal scent lingered. A man in a black cloak stood by the window, feeding a gray falcon.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” they said in unison, bowing.

“Rise,” the man said without looking up, continuing to feed the bird.

This was Yelü Jinglie’s first close encounter with the new emperor. He discreetly observed the tall, slender man with a sickly pallor. The emperor’s downcast eyes bore a slight resemblance to Jinglie’s own.

After finishing with the falcon, the emperor returned to his seat. “Please, sit.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

They took seats on either side as servants brought tea. Yelü Jinglie stood again, saying, “Your Majesty, I’ve come to inquire about arrangements for the tribal leaders’ spring pilgrimage. How should we proceed?”

“As in previous years. I appreciate your efforts, Uncle,” the emperor replied.

The new Liao emperor was named Yelü Quancang. Adopted by a sage in childhood for longevity, Yelü Jinglie barely remembered his nephew’s appearance from years ago. There was no familial affection between them, only curiosity on Jinglie’s part.

Yelü Quancang reclined against the armrest, his robes draping elegantly and his dark hair partially loose. At first glance, he appeared even more otherworldly than Yelü Jinglie. However, upon closer inspection, his sharp features, knife-like brows, and deep, phoenix eyes revealed an undeniable air of imperial authority.

Yelü Jinglie felt a chill and quickly bowed. “It is my duty, Your Majesty. I dare not speak of hardship.”

“If you’re not busy, Uncle, perhaps you’d like to join me for lunch in the side hall,” the emperor suggested.

Unless there was a tribal rebellion, Yelü Jinglie couldn’t refuse such an invitation. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Take care, Uncle,” Yelü Huangwu said, rising to see him off.

Once Jinglie had left, Yelü Quancang spoke. “Take the Ghost Tigers to assist in the Song campaign. You must capture Zhending Prefecture at all costs.”

“But the medicine—” Yelü Huangwu had planned to enter Song territory herself to obtain it.

“Leave that to Wei Yuzhi. He’s not incompetent,” Yelü Quancang said.

Unable to discern if this was meant to keep her in check, Yelü Huangwu didn’t press the issue. “Yes, Your Majesty. However, the Ghost Tigers are not as strong as they once were. Their assistance may be limited. If we could somehow rally the tribes to contribute, that would be ideal.”

After her confinement, the Ghost Tigers disbanded and went underground. Far from weakening, they had grown even stronger, surpassing even the imperial Shadow Ghosts. However, she chose to conceal their true strength.

“Mm,” Yelü Quancang responded noncommittally, his belief unclear.

Yelü Huangwu realized the emperor’s intentions in inviting her uncle to lunch. Even if Jinglie hadn’t come today, the emperor would have summoned him. His strategic thinking far surpassed her own.

With such an emperor, conquering Song seemed imminent. However, if they couldn’t retrieve the heart blood medicine and the emperor were to pass away, the throne might fall to Yelü Jinglie. In that case, her days would likely be numbered.

Yelü Jinglie’s weakness lay in his low-ranking maternal clan, but his longevity was an advantage.

As the saying goes, “New emperor, new courtiers.” Frequent changes of power were detrimental to the nation. Short-lived emperors who died after just a few years on the throne, unable to accomplish much, led to a steady decline. Both officials and commoners longed for a long-lived ruler.

By late April, Liao was like a pack of wolves starved through winter. Anticipating this, the Song court recalled General Wu Zhuo from Jiaozhi to defend the capital.

Wu Zhuo, a former anti-Liao commander with an impressive record, could not guarantee invincibility but would certainly not allow Liao forces to easily approach Bianjing. However, Yelü Huangwu had the Ghost Tigers impersonate Song’s Konghe Army and deliver false orders to Xu Yun, commanding him to block the Liao cavalry.

Believing the orders were genuine, Xu Yun arranged defenses for Xijin Prefecture and personally led 10,000 elite troops to assist Wu Zhuo!

The next day, Liao’s Ghost Tiger Army infiltrated Xijin Prefecture, collaborating with 3,000 Liao troops to recapture it. Xu Yun’s force of 70,000 was annihilated.

Meanwhile, drought-plagued northern Song and an epidemic was quietly spreading.

As the disastrous news reached Bianjing like falling snow, the emperor, usually absorbed in Daoist cultivation, was struck as if by successive thunderbolts. He finally began to govern diligently. However, addressing these mounting issues was no easy task.

It was only now that he truly realized Ling Ziyue’s importance.

Liao and Song found themselves at the negotiating table once again. The situation looked grim, with Song’s territory likely to shrink southward.

Not long ago, the entire country had been celebrating the capture of Xijin Prefecture. Now, the situation had deteriorated rapidly, with even the border seeming indefensible. The experience was like plummeting from the clouds into an abyss.

If there was any silver lining in this dramatic disaster, it was that Song, after suffering such a heavy blow, finally showed signs of awakening.

With the urgent need to defend home and country, people are easily influenced by the prevailing atmosphere. Even typically non-combatant scholars might impulsively take up arms to fight the enemy.

As Chu Dingjiang had said, although Confucianism had changed, its spirit of righteousness had never disappeared.

At the edge of the jungle bordering Jiaozhi in southern Song, five people emerged.

They sought out a nearby hunter’s lodge to wash up and rest, taking over two hours to become recognizable.

After some disguising, they set out for Yongzhou. Although they mostly traveled on small paths, they still gathered considerable news along the way.

“It’s over,” Ling Ziyue said, feeling utterly defeated.

“What do you mean?” Li Qingzhi asked anxiously.

Sui Yunzhu explained, “General Wu couldn’t have been so ineffective! If Zhending Prefecture hadn’t fallen, why would His Majesty order General Xu to abandon Xijin Prefecture and rush to defend Zhending? General Xu likely fell for a Liao trick! This strategy allowed them to recapture Xijin Prefecture and discredit General Xu simultaneously.”

At the time, the urgent situation left Xu Yun with no reason to doubt Wu Zhuo’s capabilities. He had hesitated before deploying troops but ultimately considered that Wu Zhuo, hastily dispatched to Zhending Prefecture by the court, might have struggled to respond adequately.

Regardless, this major blunder was undeniably Xu Yun’s responsibility. Even in times of national crisis when talented individuals were needed, how could the lives of 70,000 soldiers be explained away? His competence would certainly be questioned.

“Given General Xu’s nature, there’s a 90% chance he’ll take his own life,” Ling Ziyue said, knowing Xu Yun all too well. His cautious nature, combined with Ling’s precedent, might lead him to sacrifice himself to protect his family.

Song’s two great generals – one too cautious, the other too reckless.