Yan Xi hadn’t expected Yan Sanhe to suddenly ask this. After a moment’s stunned silence, he answered: “Yes!”

Yan Sanhe’s hands resting on her knees trembled slightly.

That’s right.

The person he wanted to kill was Zheng Yu.

How could a mere clerk like Ye Dong matter in his eyes?

“Miss Yan, do you, do you have anything else to ask?”

“When did the old general’s coffin enter the capital?”

The questioner was Xie Zhifei, whose voice had suddenly gone hoarse.

“Replying to Third Master, it entered the capital five days before New Year’s Eve. The Crown Prince received the coffin at the city gate. More than half the civil and military officials came. The common people of the capital…”

The common people of the capital spontaneously came out fifteen li to escort the general’s coffin home.

Among those common people were he and Xie Xiaohua.

At that time, his soul had resided in Third Master Xie’s body for over five months. His body had just recovered, and psychologically he had accepted becoming another person.

But the news of the old general’s coffin returning to the capital suddenly pulled him back to the Zheng family.

He begged Xie Xiaohua, saying he wanted to go pay respects. Xie Xiaohua said nothing and found an excuse to take him out of the estate.

The carriage left the city and entered the official road, which was filled with common people traveling on foot.

Xie Xiaohua lowered the cotton curtain and sighed heavily: “It’s better he died in battle. Otherwise, if he came back and saw what became of the Zheng family, the old general probably wouldn’t survive more than a few days either.”

He buried himself in Xie Xiaohua’s embrace and murmured: “Tell me about the old general.”

“That could take three days and three nights, child.”

That was true.

In Haitang Courtyard for eight full years, he never heard enough of his grandfather’s stories.

He wore armor, his bearing straight as a pine, his presence robust as the blazing sun, his sword-like brows framing a pair of tiger eyes that shone brilliantly.

He charged single-handedly into the Mongol enemy camp, his great blade cutting down forty-two men.

He deployed troops like a god, step by step forcing the Great Qi monarch to flee his city.

He…

He…

He…

He finally, in his white-haired years, died in battle.

“Third Master, it’s cold outside. Let’s just watch from the carriage. Don’t catch a cold again and worry the Old Madam and Madam.”

Xie Zhifei shook his head, insisting on getting out of the carriage.

By this time, the roadside was already packed with people, all standing on tiptoes and craning their necks waiting for the coffin escort.

After waiting a long time, they finally saw military forces approaching from the distance. The person at the front held up a banner with a large character “Zheng” fluttering on it.

“They’re here! The general has returned!”

Someone in the crowd shouted this, and the common people all knelt down. Some began wiping tears, others started sobbing quietly.

Xie Zhifei didn’t kneel—he just stood there stiffly, staring at that banner.

Father had said that the Zheng family’s first banner was personally embroidered by his mother, the general’s wife.

The wife was a timid woman who would burrow into her husband’s embrace at even a slightly loud thunderclap. Yet before one major military campaign, she rode her horse over, blocked her husband, and threw him a bundle.

Inside the bundle was a banner. On the front was embroidered the character “Zheng,” on the back “Safe Return.”

Soldiers leaving home may never return, but generals serving the country may lose their heads.

Zheng Yu, you must return safely.

The black coffin drew closer and closer. Even Xie Xiaohua began wiping tears.

But Xie Zhifei didn’t shed a single tear.

He only existed in his father’s stories.

In the stories, he was a towering hero. Heroes were very distant from him. Grandfather was very close.

But Grandfather didn’t like him, didn’t like Huaiyou.

Grandfather confined them to Haitang Courtyard, wouldn’t even let them leave the gate, fearing that these twins would bring misfortune to him, to the Zheng family.

What kind of great hero was that!

Yet blood ties were connected. As the coffin slowly passed before him, he suddenly felt an immense grief. Tears fell.

He remembered that every year on the fifteenth of the seventh month, on his and Huaiyou’s birthday, Grandfather would have someone send two small golden locks.

On the locks were carved four characters: Long Life, Hundred Years.

Thinking of this, Xie Zhifei could no longer sit still. He stood up, opened the door, and rushed into the wind and rain.

“Xie Wushi?”

“Third Master?”

Pei Xiao looked at Yan Sanhe with confusion: “What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing.”

Yan Sanhe breathed slowly. “Zhu Qing, escort Yan Xi back to His Highness. Tell His Highness that Third Master says there’s no need to make things difficult for him.”

With that, she walked straight into the wind and rain as well.

The people inside looked at each other.

Ding Yi wanted to follow, but Zhu Qing stopped him with a look.

“Eunuch Yan, let’s go.”

Zhu Qing helped Yan Xi up and left with an umbrella.

After Li Buyan and the others had gone far, he slammed his fist on the small table and said hatefully: “Do you know what disgusts me most?”

Pei Xiao: “What?”

“It’s those people who act like whores but still want to erect a chastity arch.”

Li Buyan was so angry that veins bulged at his temples.

“Old General Zheng hiding Yan Sanhe was wrong, but Yan Sanhe is just a woman who can’t become emperor—what waves could she stir up?

The Late Crown Prince’s last drop of bloodline—he had to exterminate it completely. That’s damned heartless.

Exterminating the entire Zheng family is one thing, but then framing Wu Guanyue for it—that’s damned disgusting.

Killing the old general is one thing, but then squeezing out the last bit of use from him—that’s damned vile.

No wonder the warhorses are all withering. If you ask me, why save them? Better they all wither!”

If it were before, Pei Xiao would definitely grit his teeth and shout: “Aunt, say one less sentence!”

But at this moment, Pei Xiao not only didn’t stop her, but lightly echoed two words.

“Too much.”

…

In the wind and rain, Xie Zhifei heard footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned.

Several zhang away, Yan Sanhe looked at him with reddened eyes.

Only then did he realize that compared to his own inner pain, this girl was suffering far more.

Because on her shoulders rested yet another life.

Xie Zhifei turned back, reached out his hand, and pulled her into his embrace, his somewhat thin chin gently rubbing against her hair.

“I just felt stifled inside and came out for some air.”

“Me too.”

“Yan Ruxian could say such things, which shows he told Old General Zheng everything about the Zheng family. I don’t dare imagine what unbearable agony the old general felt after hearing it.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t dare imagine what state of mind Old General Zheng was in at Black Mountain City, wielding that long blade, striking down enemies one by one.”

“Me too.”

“I dare even less to imagine—in that final moment when he closed his eyes, was it unwillingness, hatred, or relief in his heart?”

“Me too.”

“Yan Sanhe.”

Xie Zhifei’s voice was blown nearly to shreds by the wind.

“Generals die in a hundred battles, but they shouldn’t die like this. Dying like this—what’s the difference from murder?”

It’s all because of me.

I’m the one who caused his death.

Yan Sanhe bit her teeth hard, saying these words to herself one by one.

Her hands clutched desperately at Xie Zhifei’s clothing, her face buried tightly in his chest.

The usual coldness in her eyes vanished, replaced by a surge of blood that gradually stained her dark pupils. From the depths of her eyes shot forth reckless hatred, rage, and madness.

The already heavy rain suddenly became a torrential downpour, mixed with lightning and thunder.

The lightning came one after another, illuminating the pitch-black night sky brilliantly, as if unwilling to leave even the slightest hiding place for the monsters and demons of the world.