Every person has something they treasure above all else.

In this moment, I suddenly remembered what my aunt had once said to me.

Whether they are good or wicked, every person holds something in their heart that they will protect at all costs, and if that thing is threatened, they will fight with everything they have, even their life. If I were in his place — if I had witnessed my dearest loved ones suffer such a fate — I too would spend the rest of my days pursuing the one who did it.

It was not only Helan Zhen. The common people ravaged by war — who among them did not have a mother, a sister, a father, a brother? In the heart of that solitary, anguished young man, his mother and sister were likely the only beauty and tenderness he had left to hold.

“Do you understand? Have you ever hated?” His gaze was cold and shadowed as he pressed the question toward me.

Hatred — the word left me adrift for a moment.

“I have never hated anyone.” I raised my eyes and gave a distant, quiet smile. “Even those who have wronged me or abandoned me — they are still my family, my husband. I cannot hate them.”

He watched me steadily, the expression in his eyes shifting and unsettled, and something like a flicker of compassion seemed to pass through them.

“Helan Zhen — if one day you could command a great army and march south against the Central Plains…” I looked directly into his eyes. “Would you spare our women, our children, our elderly?”

He turned his face aside and gave no answer.

I held his gaze. “You are harming me today — but is that not also wounding an innocent person? My parents and my elder brother will suffer grief and anguish. What you do today — how does it differ from what Xiao Qi once did? At least he was fighting for his country. You are acting for one man’s private grudge. Helan Zhen — if your hands are clean, then where was Xiao Qi’s fault in what he did?”

“Silence.” He erupted in sudden fury, his palm swinging through the air — then catching himself just short, so that the edge of his hand sliced past my cheek and slammed down onto the low table beside me.

The pine table cracked and split under the blow.

“You silver-tongued woman — you only know how to argue for Xiao Qi’s sake and absolve him of guilt.” Helan Zhen’s eyes had gone blood red. He was beside himself with fury, consumed by it, his killing intent surging. “One day I will slaughter every cur from the south and flatten the Central Plains beneath my feet.”

Slaughter every cur from the south. Flatten the Central Plains.

Each word he spoke struck my ears like a blade and chilled my very marrow.

He drove me back against the wall. I bit down hard on my lip and met his gaze without flinching.

Looking at his face, contorted and wild with that frenzied rage, I felt something open like clarity within me in this moment.

Between the two peoples, there is a bone-deep blood feud, passed down through generations, a cycle of slaughter without end.

On the battlefield, there is only the victor and the vanquished — there is no right or wrong.

If I do not slaughter, I will be slaughtered.

A general’s blood soaks the battlefield — in exchange for the peace and safety of countless ordinary people. Today I alone have fallen into Helan Zhen’s hands, but if not for Prince Yuzhang’s ten years of war, defending the homeland — how many women and children of the Central Plains would have suffered at the hands of foreign invaders?

At last I understood. At last I felt something like reverence.

“Helan Zhen — you will regret this.” I said with a quiet, composed smile. “You will come to regret making an enemy of Xiao Qi.”

Helan Zhen’s pupils contracted. He lunged forward and seized me by the throat.

“A man who cannot even keep his own woman safe — what kind of hero is he?” Helan Zhen laughed wildly. “Xiao Qi is nothing but a butcher.”

I fought for breath beneath his grip. “He will certainly come to save me.”

Helan Zhen’s hand tightened, an iron vice around my throat.

Watching my eyes close in pain, he leaned down and spoke softly into my ear: “Is that so? Then keep your eyes wide open and watch.”

In the agony of suffocation, darkness crept into my vision, my mind growing dim and distant — then suddenly my chest was cold, the iron grip at my throat gone. My outer garment had been torn open. I gasped and choked violently, and every breath I drew scraped through my throat like a blade being dragged across it. Shame and pain overwhelmed me together, and cold sweat soaked through my clothing.

His lips, cold against my skin, pressed close to my ear. “A beauty in distress — how can one not be moved?”

I tasted something heavy and metallic in my mouth — blood, though I could not tell if my lip had been bitten through or if it was bleeding from my throat — yet I felt no more pain.

The physical pain was buried beneath shame and rage.

He leaned over me and pressed me down against the bed.

I did not struggle. I did not kick or fight. I simply tilted my chin up and looked at him with a faint, contemptuous smile.

“Helan Zhen — your mother is watching you from above.”

Helan Zhen’s entire body went rigid in an instant. He stopped. His chest heaved rapidly, his face turned iron-grey.

I could not make out the expression in his eyes.

It felt as though everything had frozen into stillness.

After a taut and suspended moment, he rose, turned, and walked out.

He did not look back at me once as he went through the door.

Another day passed.

By my reckoning, tonight ought to be when they made their move — and yet neither Helan Zhen nor any sign of Xiao Qi’s people stirred.

No one came in again, nor was food or water brought. I was confined alone in this small room.

My lips, my neck, my wrists, my chest — all of it was marked with dark bruising, or broken skin, or raw wounds.

When night fell, the room went pitch dark.

I curled up at the head of the bed and tugged at my sleeves and collar, trying to pull them down far enough to hide these shameful marks.

But no matter how I tugged, I could not conceal what had been done to me.

I bit down hard on my lip — and still I could not stop the tears from falling.

Then a thread of light appeared at the door.

Helan Zhen appeared in the doorway — at some point without my noticing — dressed entirely in black, a cloak trailing behind him, merging with the night at his back.

Following behind him, the bearded man led eight soldiers in heavy helmets and iron armor, all of them swathed from head to foot in cloaks, standing outside the door like silent ghosts.

He walked to where I sat and looked at me without speaking.

“Is it time?” I smiled faintly, stood, and smoothed down my disheveled hair.

Helan Zhen suddenly seized my wrist.

In the moonlight, his face was pale as snow, his fingers cold, his thin lips faintly trembling.

I froze — and forgot to pull away.

“If you were not you… I would…” He faltered suddenly, his gaze fixed on me, adrift and uncertain, a weakness there for just an instant.

Something moved in my chest. I looked down, dimly sensing what he meant — yet not wanting to believe it.

In the end, there were no words for it. I only slowly drew my hand back.

His hand still hung suspended in the air where it had been, unmoving, watching me without blinking, the blazing heat in his gaze slowly cooling and dying into ash.

The bearded man stepped inside, bearing before Helan Zhen a black wooden box.

Helan Zhen’s eye twitched. One hand came to rest on that box — and then he hesitated, reluctant to open it.

“Young Master.” The bearded man’s eyes burned with intensity.

Helan Zhen’s face had gone even paler than before. His fingertips trembled faintly, and then at last he lifted the lid.

Inside the box was an ordinary jade-inlaid sash.

With careful hands, he took it out and fastened it around my waist himself.

I tried to shrink backward, to avoid his fingers — but he took hold of my hands and held them.

“Don’t move.” His expression was as cold as frost. “Concealed within the jade sash is the most volatile phosphor-fire poison known. Once the mechanism is triggered, the phosphor-fire ignites, and everything within ten feet is immediately reduced to ash.”

I went rigid. For a single instant, even my breathing seemed to freeze.

“You had best pray to Heaven that it helps me cut down Xiao Qi without difficulty — that way you too may be spared.” Helan Zhen stroked my face lightly, and his smile turned slowly cold.

He then draped over my shoulders a dark black cloak embellished with a cinnabar-yellow silk sash. In the moonlight, a bold crimson tiger-shaped emblem on the cloak leapt into view.

The crimson tiger seal was the emblem of the Ministry of War. The cinnabar-yellow was the color of an imperial envoy.

Could it be — did they intend to pass themselves off as attendants of a Ministry of War envoy?

A shock of alarm ran through me, and in the space of an instant, a terrifying thought began to take shape.

Before it could fully form, Helan Zhen had already pulled me close beside him. “Stay with me. Remember — one wrong step and the poison-fire will take you.”

My hands and feet went ice-cold. Numb, I followed him, one step and then another, out through the door.

The cold wind off the frontier whipped my sleeves and skirts about me. Far in the distance, the faint glow of the barracks fires flickered.

The moon had reached its height, and the night was still and deep. Yet the road I was walking had already become a road toward death, and I could not turn back.

Helan Zhen had made his move — and Xiao Qi still seemed to have not yet stirred.

In the courtyard, the rest of Helan Zhen’s followers were already assembled, awaiting the order.

I caught sight, to my shock, of Xiao Ye among them — her face the color of a dead person, held up between two large men, visibly gravely injured and barely keeping herself upright.

She had been dressed in a brilliant, vivid red gown, adorned with jewels and ornaments in full array, her hair swept up high.

Something stirred in my understanding, and I began to dimly guess at the plan.

I looked out in all directions. Barracks lights burned on every side, spreading far into the distance in a long, unbroken line.

The bearded man walked at the front, with Xiao Ye and the others following. I was escorted personally by Helan Zhen at the rear. The eight of them moved along the path, passing through row after row of barracks buildings. Soldiers on patrol spotted them from a distance and cleared the way with solemn deference. At each checkpoint they passed, the bearded man produced a small crimson tablet, and they were waved through without question.

If I was not mistaken, that was the special imperial envoy seal issued by the Ministry of War — the fire-lacquered tiger-guard pass.

With this token raised, it was as though the imperial envoy himself had arrived in person.

At every checkpoint they passed through, a cinnabar-yellow banner bearing a crimson tiger emblem had been planted alongside the main command flag, vivid and arresting as it snapped in the torchlight.

The entire military encampment had been built against the hillside. Through the final checkpoint ahead lay a broad stretch of woodland, descending to the foot of the mountain.

Within the camp, a massive signal fire tower had been erected, rising to a height of several dozen feet. Thirty feet in front of the tower lay the platform from which the commanding general would review the troops during inspections.

I had once heard my uncle speak of this: whenever an imperial envoy came to inspect the frontier, a grand military review would be held, beginning at the fifth watch. The three armies would form up across the parade ground, the commanding general would take his position on the platform, the signal fires would be lit — a warning to any border threats — and under the general’s command, the troops would drill and maneuver in formation, displaying the might and discipline of the imperial military.

I looked up. On the signal fire tower, a great mound of firewood had already been stacked up in layer upon layer, rising to a towering, pagoda-like heap.

Coming toward them now was another group similarly swathed in black cloaks, their cloaks trimmed with cinnabar-yellow sashes.

“Halt. Who approaches to enter this restricted ground?”

“We come under the imperial envoy’s orders to conduct an inspection.” The bearded man raised the tablet and said with steady authority, “The token is here.”

The leader of the approaching group stepped forward, took the tablet, examined it carefully, then lowered his voice. “Why so late?”

The bearded man replied, “Third watch, first interval. We are not late.”

The man exchanged a glance with those beside him, gave a brief nod, and accepted the tablet.

“Are you Helan Zhen, the Young Lord?” He bent respectfully.

At my side, Helan Zhen, disguised in the plain clothing of an ordinary guard, his face covered by a cloak, stood without expression, without moving.

“Our master has gone ahead on a separate urgent matter,” said the bearded man quietly. “We will carry out our orders as planned.”

The man inclined his head. “All the people are in position. The moment you make your move, we will immediately provide backup.”

“We are grateful to all the gentlemen.” The bearded man clasped his hands and bowed.

The other group swept past us, and in the torchlight, each cloak was clearly marked with a flame-red tiger emblem.

So these were the imperial envoy’s own people.

No wonder they had been able to leave Huizhou so easily, and infiltrate the supply convoy without detection, and ride openly into the Ning Shuo encampment in broad daylight.

I had thought Helan Zhen possessed some extraordinary power to move unseen — I had not known there was another hand working behind the curtain.

Who would dare to conspire in secret with the remnants of the Helan clan?

Who would dare plot against Prince Yuzhang’s life and take Prince Yuzhang’s princess captive?

Who could manipulate an imperial envoy and slip past my father’s own intelligence?

The blood in my body seemed to turn cold all at once, and a chill crept through me as if seeping in through every pore.

They escorted me out of the main camp and into the woodland behind it.

The forest was full of wooden stakes and barriers, along with all manner of complex siege and combat devices, arranged for use in tactical drills.

Past the fourth watch by now — soldiers on patrol and those making preparations for the morning moved back and forth through the trees, and no one gave our group a second glance.

Helan Zhen brought me to a concealed position behind one of the barriers, disguised as an ordinary guard, while the rest of his people dispersed and took their places. Whenever a patrol soldier passed nearby, if I so much as made a slight movement, Helan Zhen instantly pressed a hand to the jade sash at my waist.

My life was held in another’s hands. I dared not cry out. There was no opportunity to escape. I could only suppress everything and wait for a moment.

The sky began to lighten almost imperceptibly, the bonfire lights around the barracks fading out, and the parade ground came gradually into focus in the first gray of dawn.

Then, without warning, a single low, resonant horn call rang out, reaching for miles in every direction across the great encampment.

The ground began to tremble with a subtle and building vibration. In the thin early light, clouds of dust rose and rolled at the four edges of the parade ground.

As the last shade of night faded from the horizon, a vast light pushed through the clouds and fell over the wide and open earth.

To every side, formations of heavily armored cavalry and infantry were already marching into position, advancing in orderly sequence, their boots shaking the platform, churning up rolling columns of dust the color of desert dragons.

On the platform, a dragon flag of gold-traced blue unfurled and climbed to the top of the pole, catching the wind and cracking sharply.

Three deep, commanding drumbeats rolled out. The commanding general took his station.

The war drums hammered and the signal horns cried together — ten thousand feet of morning light broke free of the clouds at once, and the sky rolled with wind and color, wide and fierce and magnificent.

Where the command banners snapped in the wind, two riders emerged side by side from a double column of armored cavalry escorts and ascended the platform.

The foremost rider — unmistakable — wore the familiar black helmet with the white plume. He was cloaked in a deep ink-colored battle robe embroidered in gold with coiling dragons, one hand on the rein and one on the sword hilt, his posture straight and commanding. A great dark cape billowed and turned behind him in the wind. Beside him, the second rider was mounted on a dappled purple horse, dressed in the cinnabar-yellow python robe of an envoy, wearing a tall official’s hat, sword at his side.

That familiar yet unknown silhouette appeared before me — and my eyes blurred without warning, as though tears had risen unbidden.

The signal horns wailed high and sharp, and the soldiers raised their voices in a roar that shook the four directions.

Nine heavily armored generals, swords at their sides, rode forward to the base of the platform, saluted with hands on their hilts, and shouted together, “We welcome the commanding general to his station!”

Xiao Qi looked down at the assembled troops, raised one hand slightly, and the parade ground of tens of thousands went silent in an instant, listening.

His voice carried that stern and measured weight, traveling far across the open ground: “General Xu Shou, envoy representing the Son of Heaven, has come in person to inspect Ning Shuo, laboring in service of the imperial duties and maintaining peace on the frontier. Today at this parade ground review, all troops shall follow my orders, drill their formations, and display the might of our army, in gratitude to Heaven’s grace.”

Tens of thousands of soldiers lifted their halberds and spears as one and sent a shout into the sky that seemed to shake the earth, reverberating in my ears long afterward.

The drums rolled and rolled, each beat striking straight to the bone.

On the signal platform above, four soldiers stood, each facing a different cardinal direction — east, west, south, north — swinging command banners that cracked and snapped in the wind.

The signal horns blew. Drums and brass sounded together. The drumbeats came faster.

The first unit to enter the ground was a company of black-armored cavalry — riding through the formation, advancing and retreating with precision, following the red banners of their officers through the nine-square tactical pattern.

After them came the heavy infantry, then the mounted infantry, the fire-arms company, and the assault chariot brigade — each unit led by an officer, drilling its array, the training evident and thorough.

Helan Zhen and his party, disguised as outer-perimeter sentries, lay hidden at the edge of the parade ground. Helan Zhen and I were positioned with our backs to the slope behind us, looking down at the full scene below, close to the formations. Around us on every side, dust clouds billowed, banners surged, and the sound of battle cries split the air.

Though it was not true combat, the sight still shook me to my core. This sweeping martial force, compared with the troop review I had once witnessed in the capital, was a hundred times more powerful and awe-inspiring — a sight that could strike any observer with fear and reverence.

Beside me, Helan Zhen stood silently gripping his sword hilt, his brow set like an edge of iron, his bearing shot through with a grave and fierce intensity.

The drills on the ground below were approaching their height, dust surging in every direction. When I looked out across the vast ground, all I could see was a forest of flags and the cold gleam of weapons.

Then, on the high platform, Xiao Qi swept one arm and threw his great cape back. “Light the signal fires — proclaim to all the frontier.”

As the signal fires blazed upward, the horn calls rose again, soaring until they split the sky.

Below the platform, tens of thousands of soldiers sent up a cry that seemed to move mountains and shake the earth.

High on the platform, a jet-black war horse, dark as ink, reared and let out a long cry, its hooves striking the air.

A flash of cold light. Xiao Qi drew his sword free of the scabbard and leveled it at the sky.

My breath caught in my chest, and something in my heart surged and boiled over.

The review had reached its final stage. The commanding general and the inspecting official were to ride personally into the ground to conduct a review and lead the troops through the closing drill.

The soldiers surged apart like a tide, clearing a broad path three yards wide down the center of the ground.

Xiao Qi led, riding out first, with Xu Shou following close behind — the black stallion and the purple horse entering the ground together.

That Xu Shou — the touring imperial envoy who had been colluding with Helan Zhen.

Seeing this man riding close behind Xiao Qi now, I felt my heart seize in anguish. I desperately wanted to break free and run to him — to warn him. But we were separated by dozens of yards, and even if I could escape Helan Zhen’s grip, I could not get anywhere near him. Whatever I did would be useless.

At my side, Helan Zhen gave a cold half-smile and pressed his hand to my waist. “If you don’t want to die alongside him,” he murmured, “don’t move.”

I turned and met his gaze without a word.

He lowered his voice, the smile turning dark. “Watch closely — you will be a widow very soon.”

I snapped my head back toward the field — and then Xiao Qi wheeled his horse sharply to the right and broke away. Behind him, the cavalry escort spread into a horizontal line. Black-armored heavy-shield infantry cut off the forward path. The formation moved like a living snake, darting and shifting, and in an instant had separated Xiao Qi and Xu Shou cleanly to opposite wings.

Xiao Qi took the right wing and rode directly toward the edge of the woodland where we were hidden.

Xu Shou, trapped within the left wing, pulled at his horse in every direction, unable to advance or retreat. The black-armored heavy-shield infantry came surging in from all sides, tightening the formation, forcing him relentlessly toward the center. Xu Shou tried again and again to wheel his horse and pull back, but he was already powerless to control his own movements.

“We’re trapped,” Helan Zhen said under his breath, the words breaking from him involuntarily.