Ever since Qiu Zhen took command of the rebel forces, though he had by sheer luck won a brilliant victory at Jiayong Prefecture, the days that followed grew worse with each passing one.

Not long ago, Qiu Zhen, consumed by a personal grievance, had actually led men to cause havoc in Huicheng — and it seemed he had even blown up a building and crushed a local official’s wife to death beneath the rubble.

With that single act, he had offended even the lowly demons of the underworld. Previously, by bribing local petty clerks, they had still been able to secretly transport grain and medicinal herbs northward.

After all, the reputation that Cao Sheng had built for the rebel army still carried weight. Those petty clerks, having pocketed their money, were quite content to turn a blind eye toward warriors who fought against the Tiefu invaders.

But now, the thunderous explosion at Tianbao Tower in Huicheng had jolted the common people of the surrounding prefectures and counties wide awake — no one quite knew when it had happened, but this rebel army had completely changed its character. On the day of the Spring Festival sacrifice, a day devoted to reverence for the gods and prayers for a year of bountiful harvests, the rebels under Qiu Zhen’s command had shown such utter contempt for divine authority that they blasted the entire Tianbao Tower to splinters.

What heroes fighting foreign enemies were these? They were nothing but bandits who plundered homes and robbed the roads!

The reputation of the rebel army, built at such great cost by Cao Sheng, was now deteriorating day by day. The loss of the people’s hearts meant the transport of supplies grew increasingly difficult, and the several wealthy patrons who had previously promised to fund them showed no sign of releasing any money.

And now, Qiu Zhen was once again ruling by his own whim alone — ignoring perfectly good Jingzhou right before them, he had overridden everyone’s objections to insist on a surprise night raid against some grain and supply camp at Qianxi.

He had even claimed it was a feint to strike in the east while attacking in the west, and that the Qianxi supply camp, positioned well behind the front lines, would never imagine that an elite force would strike them in the night.

And what was the result? Not only had the enemy imagined it — they had already arranged a formation to encircle and trap them. A force of a thousand elite soldiers was routed into scattered fragments. Besides those killed and captured, barely a hundred men escaped back; the rest seemed to have deserted entirely and were unwilling to return.

As for Qiu Zhen himself — no one knew whether he was alive or dead.

With that, the rebel army, leaderless and rudderless, fell into disarray. The remaining commanders found themselves unable to contain the wavering hearts of their men.

As for Qiu Zhen, he truly was, as the fortune-teller who once read his fate had said, a man of extraordinary resilience. He had taken several sword wounds and suffered grievous injury; when he plunged off the cliff, he had also shattered his leg. By good fortune he encountered scattered rebel soldiers fleeing the battlefield, and supported by them, he finally made his way back from Wild Boar Ridge by a tortuous path.

Yet by the time Qiu Zhen returned, the situation on the front had transformed drastically. The rebel forces that had been encamped outside Jingzhou City had already been struck hard by the great army led by Zhao Dong, and were driven back in successive retreats all the way to Jiayong Prefecture.

When Qiu Zhen had initially captured Jiayong Prefecture, he had created a legend — taking the city in just two days.

What a pity it is that taking a city is easy, but holding it is hard. When the forces of Great Wei pressed their advantage in a sweeping counteroffensive, using siege ladders and powerful assault equipment, it took only a single short day for the troops under Zhao Dong’s command to retake Jiayong Prefecture.

Jiayong Prefecture was once again occupied by the forces of Great Wei, its banners changed anew.

And the rebel forces, routed yet again in a long retreat, only began to make camp and rest temporarily after falling back to their original territory.

Qiu Zhen had narrowly escaped with his life from Han Linfeng’s sword, yet the wound to his chest and the injury to his leg left him temporarily confined to bed. Throughout the preceding retreat, there had been no opportunity whatsoever to nurse his wounds; his fractured leg bone, lacking timely resetting, was very likely to leave him permanently disabled.

Qiu Zhen held up a bronze mirror and stared at his face, now slashed and scarred beyond recognition, and for a time he roared in fury again and again!

The young maidservant tending his dressings was so frightened she dared not raise her eyes to look at him. He drank several mouthfuls of the bitter medicine, then impatiently told her to leave the medicine bowl behind and drove her out.

At that moment, outside his tent, voices murmured — it seemed someone was asking the maidservant about the state of his injuries.

Hearing that someone was concerned about his condition, Qiu Zhen felt no comfort; instead, a cold alarm seized his heart. It had been precisely when Cao Sheng lay gravely wounded and bedridden that Qiu Zhen himself had gradually seized control of the military, little by little stripping Cao Sheng of all real power.

Now, his own circumstances had come to bear an unsettling resemblance to those of his father-in-law — lying helpless in a sickbed, unable to move, and inevitably prone to suspicion and paranoia.

The men beneath him were a motley assortment from every background imaginable, each with a complicated history, like a pack of unruly, savage wolves.

So long as they could be kept in awe and submission, they would naturally obey the commands of the pack’s leader and charge forward together into battle.

But the moment they sensed the weakness of their leader, they would one by one bare their fangs, each coveting the chance to sink their teeth into the throat of yesterday’s strongest and take his place!

He himself had treated Cao Sheng exactly that way in the past. Now, recalling the unfriendly eyes his subordinates had fixed on him upon his return, Qiu Zhen’s heart clenched tighter still: he had to recover as quickly as possible, or sooner or later his end would be the same as Cao Sheng’s.

He reached out and felt beneath his pillow, where a sharp dagger lay hidden. If anyone dared to come and ambush him in his sleep, he would most certainly cut that person down at his bedside.

With that thought in mind, Qiu Zhen roused himself and drank down the entire bowl of medicine.

The medicine’s effects were quite potent; not long after swallowing it, the pain in his chest and leg faded away.

Yet when he attempted to sit up again, he suddenly felt his entire body go slowly, inexplicably limp, and no matter how he tried, he could not summon the strength to rise.

His eyes fixed on the medicine bowl beside him with growing alarm and suspicion — could it be… that someone had put something into his medicine?

Just then, at the tent entrance, someone lifted the flap and walked in.

Qiu Zhen turned his head to look. It was his wife, Cao Pei’er, carrying a food box, and she began to arrange dishes on the small table beside his bed.

The dishes were all ones he loved to eat. He recalled the young maidservant mentioning that while she was boiling his medicine at the kitchen stove, she had noticed the Commander’s wife nearby, busy making food.

It seemed Cao Pei’er still loved him to the marrow of her bones. Even in the midst of a military retreat and flight, she had taken the trouble to prepare dishes he favored.

Qiu Zhen made a great effort to compose himself, and with some difficulty squeezed out a smile: “Pei’er, you’ve come — that is good. Someone has put something in my bowl. Quickly, call someone to take me away from here…”

Cao Pei’er set down the food box, then sat on the edge of the bed, tilting her head to look at his face — a face now twisted and disfigured by countless scars. The handsome man who had once bewitched her so utterly that she had turned her back on her own parents… was now truly hideous to behold.

She picked up a dish, used her chopsticks to pick up a braised meatball, and pressed it into his mouth: “You’ve suffered such grievous injuries — it would be better not to speak. Just eat this meal properly.”

Unable to move, his body now fully limp and unresponsive, Qiu Zhen could only sit with his mouth stuffed full, staring at Cao Pei’er with wide, wary eyes.

Cao Pei’er glanced at the medicine bowl at his side, and a strange smile slowly spread across her face: “What is it? Have you forgotten? This is the knockout drug you once entrusted someone to give me! You had me drug the guards watching over me so I could escape and come find you. I kept a little back then, originally intending it as a precaution for the road when I escaped to find you. Who would have thought that in the end, it would be used on you.”

With great effort, Qiu Zhen spat out the food in his mouth. His tongue had grown stiff: “Pei’er, I… was wrong. In my heart, you are still the one I love most…”

“Hush…” Cao Pei’er pressed one finger to his lips. The expression on her face shifted several times. She gazed at the once-handsome face before her — now like a sheet of paper torn to shreds, from which she could no longer piece together any trace of the tenderness it had once held. She said softly: “Do you know how the whole camp laughs at me? They mock me for having no shame, for throwing myself at you and clinging to you… And yet was it not you who made the first move, who took the initiative to court and seduce me? For your sake, I severed every bond of father-and-daughter feeling with my father. And yet you cast me off like a worn-out straw sandal, discarding me without a moment’s hesitation!”

As she spoke, a fierce, murderous light entered Cao Pei’er’s eyes — it was plain she was recalling all the cold neglect, humiliation, beatings, and verbal abuse she had endured these past days.

At this moment the knockout drug was fully taking effect, and Qiu Zhen found himself increasingly unable to move. Cold sweat broke out across his brow as he struggled: “Pei’er, I… was wrong. Give me a chance. We will live a proper life together…”

Cao Pei’er gave a soft, cold laugh: “Live what kind of life? A life of wandering homeless, like stray dogs with nowhere to go? A life of looking at that hideous face of yours day after day?… Since you claimed to love me, how could you bear to stand by while my father refused to forgive me? You, of all people, should know my father’s temperament best. If I return empty-handed, he would sooner die than acknowledge me as his daughter again… So, can you not be good to me one final time, and lend me something, so that I may go back and face my father?”

Never in his life had Qiu Zhen looked so intently into Cao Pei’er’s eyes as he did at this moment. The besotted infatuation that had once filled her gaze was gone entirely, replaced by a different kind of madness flickering in their depths…

Mustering the last of his strength, he asked: “What… is it you wish to borrow?”

By now Cao Pei’er had already risen from her seat. From the bottom of the food box she retrieved an old garment and changed into it, then took up from within that large food box a sickle that had been sharpened to a razor edge. She stood at his bedside with an expression of absolute resolve, and spoke one word at a time: “The head… upon your neck…”

With those words, she raised the sickle — sharpened through an entire night’s work — high into the air, then brought it sweeping down with terrible force…

In the instant she raised the blade, a tumult of fragmented thoughts flashed through Qiu Zhen’s mind — he recalled that back in the countryside, Cao Pei’er had apparently helped Madam Cao assist a butcher with pig-slaughtering to make ends meet.

At the camp’s stockade in earlier days, whenever live pigs were purchased, it had always been she and her mother who helped with the slaughtering.

Whenever pigs were killed, Cao Pei’er had never shown the slightest hesitation — hand raised, blade fallen, the force precise and ruthless, driving the blade into the pig’s throat with the practiced ease of a seasoned butcher…

That wandering charlatan had told him he would die peacefully in his bed… and so it had come to this, after all…

When Cao Pei’er had changed out of her bloodied clothes, wiped her face clean, and put herself back in order, and then walked out again carrying the heavy food box, it had not taken very long at all.

She gave instructions to the guards stationed outside the tent: “Commander Qiu has just taken his medicine and fallen asleep. Let no one disturb him. Allow him to rest well.”

The guards nodded in assent as Cao Pei’er carried her food box back to her own tent.

Before long, a woman with the appearance of a kitchen cook walked out of Cao Pei’er’s tent carrying a small bundle, and taking advantage of the moment when all the others were gathered together eating, walked away carrying a woodcutting cleaver in the direction of the forest, and in no time at all disappeared into the undergrowth behind the camp.

Close to the afternoon, the young maidservant who went to bring medicine discovered Qiu Zhen lying with head and body severed.

His head had vanished without a trace. The entire bed was awash in blood like a pool, reminiscent of a pig-slaughtering block — the sight sent the maidservant into a piercing scream before she fainted dead away.

The entire rebel army was once again plunged into the panicked chaos of having no leader to turn to. The remaining scattered troops broke camp and fled north in a rout, dissolving into complete disorder.

The forces of Great Wei, pressing their advantage in continuous pursuit, retook several more cities with ease. Zhao Dong’s hand grew almost weary writing so many victory reports to present to His Majesty.

As news of victory after victory from the great army arrived, the air of tension throughout Liangzhou dissipated at last, with express victory dispatches arriving in rapid succession, each traveling eight hundred li.

And within the capital, atop the imperial desk in His Majesty’s imperial study, things were quite lively as well.

On one hand, victory dispatches from the northern prefectures arrived in a steady stream, with Zhao Dong continuously reporting to the capital the recovery of prefectures and counties — much to His Majesty’s great delight.

On the other hand, two or three memorial petitions had appeared, impeaching Zhao Dong for sheltering Han Linfeng, who was accused of colluding with Cao Sheng’s rebel faction and embezzling silver for personal gain.

When the memorials were first presented, His Majesty first picked up the victory dispatches and read them again and again. Then, glancing at the impeachment memorials, he ordered that two of the imperial princes be summoned to the imperial study for an audience.

He first had a eunuch read aloud the victory dispatches from the front lines, and before the two princes had even finished offering their congratulations, he picked up the memorial impeaching Zhao Dong and handed it to both princes to read.

The Ninth Prince, having read through it a few times, nearly burst out laughing: what in the world had this to do with anything? While it was true that Han Linfeng was an utterly hopeless good-for-nothing who might well be dazzled by money into doing shady dealings — colluding with the rebel Cao Sheng? That would take some doing!

But as for General Zhao Dong’s character, every official in court understood it perfectly. He would never be entangled in such filthy affairs.

Yet Zhao Dong, while not aligned with the Wang family camp, was also not of the Rui Wang faction.

The Ninth Prince, Rui Wang, felt he had no reason to speak on Zhao Dong’s behalf, and uncertain of his father’s intentions, ventured a probe: “Since the military overseer from the forward encampment speaks with such certainty, perhaps it would be best to investigate the matter thoroughly.”

His Majesty then turned to the Sixth Prince: “And what is your view?”

When the Sixth Prince read the contents of that memorial, his reaction was entirely contrary to the Ninth Prince’s. Cold sweat inexplicably began to run down the length of his spine.

Within his mind, he had long harbored a vague and indistinct, yet unshakeable suspicion concerning Han Linfeng.

Now, looking again at this memorial, a thought leapt forcefully to the surface once more — what if it had been Han Linfeng who broke Cao Sheng out of prison?

What if he was not at all the dissolute idler he appeared to be on the surface?

If that were the case, it would explain why, despite all the obstacles he himself had placed in the way, Han Linfeng had still managed to deliver grain to Jiayong Prefecture — allowing Wang Yun no pretext to withdraw his troops, and costing Wang Yun troops and losses in the process.

This man was a wolf in pig’s clothing — a ruthless and formidable opponent!

At that thought, the Sixth Prince did not even pause to wipe the cold sweat from his brow. He hastened to report to his father: “In this son’s view, this case most certainly involves the great crime of consorting with the enemy. Han Linfeng conceals his true nature with great depth. This son has long suspected him of once having rescued the rebel Cao Sheng, making him a confederate of the rebels!”

But before he could finish speaking, his ninth younger brother had already lost composure in the imperial presence — he let out an audible snort of laughter.

“Sixth Elder Brother, you are rather too eager to climb a pole the moment someone hands it to you, are you not? Is it not simply that General Zhao has won a few victories, and the Wang family of Changxi cannot sit still for it — so they have enlisted you to help press down on General Zhao? He is your own brother-in-law, after all. Can you truly, with such disregard for personal loyalty, fabricate such filth to throw at his head?”

As for what sort of worthless conduct Han Linfeng exemplified — who in all of the capital did not know? Eating, drinking, womanizing, and gambling he had down to a fine art, certainly. But colluding with rebels and breaking Cao Sheng out of prison?

That would tax the capabilities of that young man to the absolute limit!

Sixth Elder Brother truly ought to take his talent for spinning tall tales to the teahouse storytellers — it would be a waste to keep it to himself!

The Sixth Prince, the Prince of Hengshan, could hardly allow his younger brother to slander him so brazenly before their father. His face flushed red with fury: “You understand nothing whatsoever!”

Emperor Wei Hui did not believe a word of it either, but what he found even more intolerable was watching the two brothers quarrel in the imperial study like children of three years old.

So he darkened his expression and said: “The two of you are grown men now, each established in your own residences with your own households. Do you truly still require Us to punish you as We did in your childhood — making you copy out the imperial house’s admonishments?”

The two princes, upon hearing this, at once offered their contrition with all due reverence and fear.

Emperor Wei Hui, seeing that the two had ceased their bickering, said: “Someone has submitted a confidential letter as evidence, alleging that the Qianxi supply camp holds silver presented by the rebel Cao Sheng, and that someone has reportedly seen Cao Sheng appear in Liangzhou. Where there is no wind, there are no waves; We will send men to investigate the matter thoroughly… However, Zhao Dong’s expedition to the northern territories has achieved victory from the very outset, reversing a dire situation — his merits are truly great. Would it not be somewhat inappropriate, at such a moment, to go and investigate Zhao Dong for sheltering his subordinate?”

The Sixth Prince’s expression sharpened. He understood: his father had still taken the Ninth Prince’s words to heart, reminding him not to, for the sake of factional maneuvering, suppress those of meritorious service.

Now that Zhao Dong’s victory dispatches arrived in a continuous stream, with His Majesty greatly pleased, it was naturally not the moment to dampen his spirits.

The Sixth Prince could only offer his agreement repeatedly, and speak up: “Since the accusation points at the Qianxi supply camp, the fault naturally lies with Han Linfeng. This matter, this son requests that Your Father the Emperor place in this son’s hands. This son has a clear sense of what to do and will certainly not implicate General Zhao or affect the great campaign at the front lines.”

Emperor Wei Hui, seeing that the Sixth Prince understood his meaning, gave a satisfied nod, and then said: “When one considers it — had the saintly and virtuous late Emperor not been taken captive back in those days, it is Han Linfeng himself who would be the rightful heir of the imperial house… The one sitting in this seat should by rights have been the Beizhen line… When you conduct your investigation, be mindful of proportions, give due consideration to the imperial family’s dignity, and keep things as low-key as possible. We have no wish to be left with a reputation of kinsmen slaughtering one another…”

These words were no call for leniency toward Han Linfeng. Rather, they were a signal to his son: if there was indeed such a matter, it should be rooted out and eliminated entirely — yet without making a great commotion. After all, there were many ways to make a person disappear quietly, and how to preserve the imperial family’s dignity was a question the Sixth Prince would have to manage on his own.

In matters of this kind, the Sixth Prince was rather more capable than the Ninth.

The Sixth Prince naturally understood his father’s words perfectly, without needing them spelled out.

The moment he stepped out of his father’s study, the Sixth Prince immediately waved a man forward: “When His Majesty’s men go to inspect the Qianxi supply camp, Han Linfeng must not be given any opportunity to destroy evidence. Go at once and send word by carrier pigeon — from this day forth, those surrounding Han Linfeng on all sides are to be equipped with informants. Track his every movement with strict surveillance.”

The man received his orders and immediately went to make the arrangements.

At that moment a cool gust of wind swept through. The Sixth Prince gazed at a corner of the palace walls beneath a sky grown somewhat overcast, straining to recall the features of the person he had so long overlooked — only to find that, though a mere few months had passed, he could no longer quite picture Han Linfeng’s face.

That person’s brows and eyes were always concealed beneath layers of heavy face powder, making them impossible to see clearly…

Now, speaking of the women who had remained behind in Liangzhou City: they had been anxiously awaiting news from the front lines all this while. When Princess Yuyang grew too anxious with waiting, she found herself wanting to seek out a temple, pray to the bodhisattvas, and petition the gods.

So she invited Su Luoyun to accompany her to a temple to pray for a peace talisman.

Su Luoyun knew that after the Qianxi supply camp had mounted that brilliant defensive engagement, Han Linfeng had followed Zhao Dong into the encampment and joined in the pursuit of the rebel forces together.

With him at the front lines, it was naturally impossible for him to send letters back and forth as freely as before. These past few nights she too had slept poorly, her heart suspended in worry over the situation at the front.

And so when the princess suggested it, she readily agreed, had a carriage prepared, and set out for one of the temple convents near Liangzhou to pray for peace of mind.

But no sooner had she stepped out and was waiting for the princess than a beggar woman came down the alley, making as if to approach the gate to speak.

The guards immediately stopped her: “Halt! This is the Beizhen Prince’s residence. No idle persons are permitted to approach.”

The female beggar’s face was covered in grime, and her age was impossible to determine. Yet when she opened her mouth, the sound of her voice seemed that of a young woman: “I am here to find Han Linfeng, the Shizi of Beizhen!”

Her speech carried full, vigorous energy, with a certain bluntness and force to it.

Su Luoyun, who had been about to board the carriage, heard this and could not help but turn to observe this female beggar: “Who are you? What is your business with the Shizi?”

The female beggar caught sight of Su Luoyun, and her eyes brightened involuntarily: “I saw you in Huicheng — you are Han Linfeng’s wife!”

Su Luoyun looked carefully, but did not recognize her. Yet at that very moment, Qingyang — left behind by Han Linfeng to protect the safety of the prince’s residence — stepped forward.

The female beggar caught sight of Qingyang, and at once cried out in delighted recognition: “Elder Brother Qing, it is me — I am Cao Pei’er!”

Cao Pei’er did not know Qingyang’s full identity, only that his surname was Qing. He was the one who had escorted her and her parents on the journey south all those years ago.

Seeing him, Cao Pei’er let out a long breath of relief, feeling certain she had found the right place.

Qingyang was also momentarily taken aback, but at last recognized her among all the grime on Cao Pei’er’s face: “You… how did you come to be here?”

Beside them, Su Luoyun had immediately caught on: this woman was actually Cao Pei’er? She was the daughter of the rebel army’s leader — under no circumstances could she be allowed to encounter the princess!

At that thought, she at once instructed Qingyang to take Cao Pei’er away — not into the prince’s residence, but to rent a courtyard somewhere and settle her there first.

Qingyang understood without needing further words.

After Su Luoyun accompanied the princess on her return from the temple, Qingyang reported to her the news from Cao Pei’er’s side.

When she heard that Cao Pei’er had actually severed Qiu Zhen’s head and was carrying it with her wrapped in powdered lime, Su Luoyun drew in another sharp breath of cold air — so that was what the young Miss Cao had been carrying in that bundle at the time…

Qingyang, too, reached up with a lingering chill to rub the back of his own neck.

Back in those days, when this young Miss Cao had been in the grip of her infatuated spell, Master Cao had actually asked him whether he had taken a wife yet, and whether he might consider becoming his son-in-law. Master Cao had been hoping to marry Cao Pei’er off as quickly as possible, to put an end to her infatuated notions!

Thank the heavens that Qingyang had a match arranged back in his hometown and had declined with emphatic waves of his hand — because to have taken a woman with such ruthless hands and such a merciless heart as a wife… truly, one might lose one’s head at any moment, right there in one’s sleep!

The severed head had already been re-wrapped by Qingyang in lime and placed into a wooden box. Unexpectedly, Su Luoyun indicated that she wished to look at it.

Qingyang stared once again at the Shizi’s consort in astonishment, and said carefully: “You… are not afraid?”

Su Luoyun said: “Linfeng is at the front lines right now — we cannot be a burden to him. After my sight was restored, the very first face I ever saw was Qiu Zhen’s. If the head is a false one, I would be able to tell, would I not?”

Qingyang understood — the Shizi’s consort feared that Cao Pei’er might be attempting some deception, and so she wished to personally verify the truth.

And so he brought out the wooden box, warned the Shizi’s consort several more times that the head was a grim sight indeed, and only then opened the lid.

…Well…

The moment the box was opened, it was indeed a shock to the senses. The man whom memory held as strikingly handsome and wickedly alluring now had a face twisted and covered in distorted scars… With the lime coating his features in ash-white, it was indeed a horrifying sight.

Su Luoyun made a determined effort to steady herself, and fixed her eyes on the outer corner of his eye and his chin — she remembered that when she had first seen him in Huicheng, there had been moles at both of those spots.

Searching for them now, she found them just as she remembered. It seemed beyond doubt that this person was indeed Qiu Zhen.

Su Luoyun examined him carefully a moment longer, then pressed her sleeve over her nose and gestured for Qingyang to close the box. She then said: “Hurry and get this head to the Shizi. The fighting at the front lines is fierce right now, yet the rebel forces have still not leaked word of Qiu Zhen being assassinated. If the Shizi were to learn of this, it should prove greatly advantageous.”

Qingyang, looking now at all the women of this inner household, felt his heart full of a deep, involuntary reverence and wariness — one ought never to be fooled by their gentle, delicate appearances in ordinary days, for beneath that outward softness might lie a ruthlessness beyond anyone’s imagination!