In July, exactly half a year after the Wei army marched north from Yanmen, Jiang Hanyuan assembled her troops, departed from Luan Pass, and headed north, traveling on the road leading to the southern capital of the Beidi.

The previous battle at Luan Pass had seen Chi Shu launch one frenzied assault after another at any cost to recapture this strategic chokepoint, but each time he was repelled. Meanwhile, Qin Long in Yan Commandery was under tremendous military pressure, struggling to manage the situation. Not only that, but throughout Youzhou, wild rumors spread that the so-called “restoration” conducted not long ago under the banner of a Jin imperial prince was nothing but a complete and utter fraud. The real Wu Sheng was now in Chang’an, where, after presenting the imperial seal to the Wei Emperor and declaring his submission, he willingly immolated himself to seek enlightenment.

The impact of this news was devastating beyond imagination. Lu Kang committed suicide. He and Li Renyu had long been regarded as the spiritual pillars of the Jin people in the northern territories. Now, with one surrendering to Great Wei and the other dead, the troops they had previously recruited surrendered directly on the battlefield, while large numbers of civilian laborers fled during the march. Under such circumstances, the front lines could barely hold on for a while longer, relying on Di forces, but the logistics for the Yan Commandery campaign rapidly collapsed. Qin Long executed the completely useless puppet impersonating Wu Sheng, and to escape his predicament, he seized large numbers of ordinary Jin people under his rule to fill the gaps. Already notorious for his cruelty, this action caused even more civilians to flee. In this vicious cycle, Yan Commandery teetered on the brink of collapse, with the city’s fall imminent.

The final turning point came on the jiazi day. That solar eclipse became the last straw that broke the camel’s back.

Regarding this celestial phenomenon, Jiang Hanyuan had received a warning from Shu Shenhui. He told her that there was an astronomer at the Imperial Observatory who was skilled in astronomy and had calculated that a solar eclipse would occur that day, with the timing accurate to within a quarter-hour. He specifically informed her so she would be prepared.

The entire army received advance notice, so when the solar eclipse occurred, no one panicked. Taking advantage of the darkness and the Di army’s confusion and terror, they achieved a great victory over their enemies.

After repeated defeats, Chi Shu finally calmed down from his initial fury.

In Daxing City, the southern capital of the Beidi, he still maintained a loyal force of trusted troops whose fighting capability was not to be underestimated, but they could not be transferred here to join the battle. That was his last stronghold in the northern Central Plains and could not be left undefended.

Now that recapturing Luan Pass was hopeless, continuing this way would mean that when Qin Long could no longer hold out and Yan Commandery fell, he would have no more defensive positions to rely on, like fighting naked. When another Wei army pushed north and converged with Jiang Hanyuan from north and south, forming a pincer attack and consuming all the maneuvering space available to him, even if he wanted to retreat, he would be unable to do so.

He was indeed a ruthless man. After calming down and assessing the situation, he decided that even Jiang Hanyuan had to admire.

Just as he had once been able to sever his arm in exchange for survival, this time he decisively abandoned Yan Commandery, which he had operated for many years, voluntarily gave up Youzhou which had become a burden to him, ordered Qin Long to implement a scorched earth policy, burning the commandery city and all supplies that could not be taken away, killing the able-bodied men in the city, gathering his forces to retreat north, while he quietly withdrew his troops, bypassing Luan Pass and retreating to the southern capital via another distant route before the Wei army could arrive to intercept him.

Rather than being trapped to death in Youzhou, it was better to retreat and defend the southern capital, regroup his forces, and wait for the enemy while rested, to gain a chance for a counterattack and victory.

Jiang Hanyuan knew that the final great battle—the decisive battle—was about to come.

While marching north, she ordered the main army to make camp and rest in place, waiting for the rear troops to arrive.

On the day the Di army retreated, they tore off their human masks, revealing the faces of demons and beasts. Not only did they set fires to burn the city, but they also slaughtered and plundered everywhere, making Yan Commandery like a living hell. Fortunately, Zhao Pu and Zhou Qing received a warning and launched a fierce assault to arrive in time, forcing the Di army to retreat in panic. But even so, the great fire still spread throughout the entire city. The two men commanded their troops to fight the fires, and after many days, they finally completely extinguished the blaze, while the fleeing civilians gradually returned. Finally, the veteran general Zhao Pu remained to handle the aftermath, while Zhou Qing led his army to continue north.

Jiang Hanyuan planned to wait for Zhou Qing’s arrival, and after the two armies converged, march north with their combined forces, pointing their swords toward the southern capital.

Looking back at the campaign, since departing from Yanmen, the process had been full of twists and turns—she had even lost her father. The upcoming decisive battle was Chi Shu’s last chance to counterattack; he would surely give his all, and it was destined not to be an easy fight. But her officers and soldiers showed no fear of the impending decisive battle; on the contrary, they were extremely excited, all eagerly anticipating this final battle.

She felt the same way.

When the day came to break the southern capital, it would mark the final victory of this long-planned northern expedition from Yanmen, with Great Wei recovering the northern gateway and greatly expanding the northern frontier. This meant that the sharp sword that had hung over their heads for decades since Great Wei’s founding would be removed, and the threat of northern enemies’ iron hooves breaking through Yanmen to charge south would never return.

By rights, she should be even more excited than her soldiers, maintaining a rational mind while feeling intense excitement from within. This was the state a commander should have before a great battle.

However, the truth was that her emotions had been extremely low recently.

Shu Shenhui’s coldness could still be explained by the fact that, with the nation at war, he had no time to attend to personal feelings, and she, too, was busy with military affairs, either fighting or on the march, with no time to dwell on private matters.

But with the news of Wu Sheng’s fate, she could no longer control her thoughts.

She understood all too well why Wu Sheng had immolated himself.

If there had been no puppet restoration farce orchestrated by Chi Shu, no rumors spreading about herself and him, then his identity need not have been revealed to the world, and he might have lived peacefully to old age under the name Wu Sheng for the rest of his life. However, there were no “what ifs.”

After such events occurred, as long as he knew about them, he would certainly have stepped forward, and Shu Shenhui would not have allowed him not to step forward. Once his identity was revealed, death became his only destination.

Losing freedom and dying slowly and silently in imprisonment, or dying conspicuously under the gaze of all people, under the name of seeking enlightenment through cultivation.

Jiang Hanyuan did not know which one he would have preferred. Perhaps the latter might have been more in line with his wishes. But even so, was he truly completely willing from the bottom of his heart? How could she possibly find peace in her heart?

The main army had been encamped in this wilderness for seven or eight days. In a few more days, Zhou Qing would arrive with his forces.

As night gradually deepened, Jiang Hanyuan returned from her routine patrol of the camp and was alone in her large tent. The noisy sounds from the barracks outside gradually faded as the officers and soldiers retired for the night. She too extinguished the lamp and lay down on the couch fully clothed. However, after a long time, she remained completely sleepless.

Once again, she recalled the scene of her last meeting with Wu Sheng: she had gone to find him, saying she would marry the next day, and asked him to chant sutras for her to hear.

At that time, she could not have known that meeting would be their last.

Now he was dead. She had harmed him. If she had never sought him out before, never asked him to chant sutras for her, there would have been no rumors, and Shu Shenhui might never have known of his existence.

But now, everything was too late.

A wave of sadness surged in her heart. She thought again of her father and uncle. Her relatives in this world were leaving her one by one. Now, even her only friend was gone. Dead by burning alive.

She was tightly gripped by this powerless feeling of sadness. She couldn’t help but think once again of the curse her younger brother had uttered before she killed him—that she was an ominous person. Suddenly, when she thought of another person, she thought of how he, too, had gradually become like a stranger, like a traveler on a journey who came, met, and then passed by and departed, for a moment, the boundless feeling of loneliness and desolation overwhelmed her like a tidal wave. She felt as if she had returned to living in her unwillingly remembered girlhood. In the end, she only felt her chest so constricted she could barely breathe, and her eyes became unbearably hot and sore.

She desperately suppressed the urge to cry, closing her eyes even tighter in the darkness.

Last winter, when she had gathered with that person in Yunluo for her uncle’s funeral, that night when she had wept before him, after returning from their parting, she discovered that she seemed to be becoming increasingly fragile.

She did not like this version of herself. It was neither appropriate nor acceptable.

She was a warrior. Her officers and soldiers even less needed a commander who could not control her emotions.

She quietly closed her eyes for another moment, slowly calming her emotions, and finally decided to get up and leave the tent for another night patrol. When she was tired, she would naturally be able to sleep upon returning.

Just as she emerged from the large tent, a personal guard hurried over and quietly reported something to her.

Jiang Hanyuan was momentarily stunned, somewhat unable to believe it. When she recovered, she didn’t even wait to have someone escort the visitor in, but stepped out herself. She walked faster and faster, until finally she was almost running, rushing out of the main camp gate in one breath.

A figure stood quietly outside the camp gate.

Seeing her, that person raised his hand to remove the hood of the cloak covering his head, placed his palms together before his chest, and said softly: “General, have you been well since we parted?”

It was Wu Sheng!

The moonlight illuminated this face with its gentle smile—it was Wu Sheng.

He had not died. Not only had he not died, but now he had come here!

Jiang Hanyuan stood for a moment, gazing at him. Slowly, her eyes grew hot again, and finally, she said in a voice that carried a trace of choking emotion: “I am very well. How are you?”

Wu Sheng replied: “I, too, am extremely well. I have come especially to bid farewell.”