A messenger brought sudden news.

Chi Shu, unwilling to accept defeat, had made contact with Lord Zuochang, who had previously retreated to his territory, during his northern withdrawal. Using the promise of future territorial division as a condition, he borrowed troops and horses, planning to catch the Wei army off guard with a surprise counterattack.

His target was not to retake the southern capital, much less Youyan. Though this Beidi emperor raged furiously after his defeat, once the fury passed, his mind had not been completely consumed by the flames of anger. Now the Wei army was stronger than his forces, and having just achieved a great victory, their morale was unstoppable, while his army had collapsed like a mountain in defeat. Even with borrowed troops, hoping to contend with them in the short term and retake the Youyan lands would be nothing but a fool’s dream. And if Youyan was not under control, even if he could retake the southern capital, it would not be a stable stronghold for long and would have no practical meaning.

Several hundred li north of the southern capital lay a great marsh, stretching from east to west. Decades ago, before the Beidi had moved south to establish their capital, for hundreds of years, this place had been regarded as the boundary river between the Di people and the Central Plains dynasty. Both sides had engaged in intermittent and repeated struggles around this boundary river. Initially, the Central Plains dynasty built fortresses along both banks of the boundary river, which gradually developed into numerous military towns, among which Zhenming and Xirou were the largest in scale and most strategically positioned.

Chi Shu’s goal was to preserve the boundary river—this also concerned his final dignity. Youyan and the southern capital had never originally belonged to the Di people; losing them was acceptable. But the territory north of the boundary river was the ancestral dwelling place of the Di people. If he could not even preserve this last patch of land, even if he returned to the northern court, he would likely be unable to convince the masses. Lord Zuochang’s situation was not much better than his own now. It would not be wrong to say that his momentary lapse in judgment had directly led to the loss of Youyan. The Di people valued martial prowess and looked down upon cowardice. Though the nobles and army of the southern capital had become somewhat lax due to years of pleasure-seeking, their customs remained unchanged. After fleeing back to his territory, he had suffered secret mockery from other nobles, greatly damaging his reputation. Now, receiving Chi Shu’s message and weighing his options, he agreed to lend troops both to restore his reputation and for future considerations.

Thus, after crossing the boundary river and fleeing several hundred li, Chi Shu reorganized his forces, turned around for a surprise attack, and came charging back.

This military dispatch sent to Yanmen came from the southern capital.

After taking the southern capital, Jiang Hanyuan swept the borders, pursuing to near the boundary river. Knowing not to pursue a desperate enemy too far, she stopped the chase. Having dealt with Chi Shu for quite some time, she understood this opponent’s character—as long as there was the slightest possibility, he would not easily admit defeat. As a precaution, she remained stationed in the boundary river area, observing the situation. When she received urgent news from scouts, she was leading a force stationed at Xirou Sai north of the boundary river. She dispatched men to send urgent reports, ordering immediate reinforcement, commanded Zhou Qing to guard another key fortress, Zhenming, located south of the boundary river, and simultaneously sent news to Yanmen, ordering Fan Jing to prepare and stand ready, just in case.

Fan Jing had just returned from the western pass not long ago. Military and administrative affairs kept him busy daily, and today was no exception. In his command post, having received news that warfare had erupted again, he was about to order the summoning of high-ranking officers to relay the command when the guard outside entered to report that someone sought him. Coming out, he saw a person in common clothes wearing a hat standing outside, whose figure seemed somewhat familiar. Drawing closer and recognizing the person, he was utterly astonished: “Your Highness?”

He hurriedly rushed out to greet him.

That day, Shu Shenhui continued northward with the travel pass issued by Yanmen.

Previously, when the Battle of the Eight Tribes occurred, Jiang Hanyuan had led light cavalry on flanking maneuvers, traveling by day and hiding by night, requiring ten-odd days to reach Youzhou. Now that the Youyan lands had completely belonged to Great Wei, there was a direct route from Yanmen to the southern capital. Racing day and night without stopping, he reached Yan Commandery in just three or four days. Without any rest, after changing horses, he passed through the southern capital and first arrived at Zhenming Sai, located on the southern bank downstream.

He wanted to continue rushing to Xirou Sai.

On the day of his arrival, battles had already begun along this stretch of the boundary river. Zhenming Sai, as an important stronghold downstream, was experiencing fierce fighting.

Several days earlier, a Di cavalry force numbering in the tens of thousands had charged forward menacingly, crossed this stretch of boundary river that was about belly-deep for horses, and launched fierce attacks on Zhenming Sai.

The Di cavalry main force came from Lord Zuochang’s command. Unlike the previous troops who had become somewhat fearful after repeated defeats, they had not engaged in battle that day but had retreated north, always feeling unconvinced. Now, given the opportunity, each had red eyes, wishing they could charge back to Yan Commandery in one breath to avenge their previous shame and boast of military achievements before other units. Zhou Qing knew the attacking Di cavalry was formidable and dared not be careless. He had built fortifications on the north, west, and east sides of Zhenming Sai early and deployed forces for defense. He judged that the Di forces would focus their main attack on the northern route, so he took command there while having capable subordinates guard the other two flanks. This arrangement was originally sound, and for consecutive days, Zhenming Sai was defended impeccably, with each wave of Di attacks being repelled.

Who could have known that three days ago, the weather suddenly changed with torrential summer rains? The river became turbulent, and the swollen waters overflowed the banks, destroying the defensive fortifications on the western side of Zhenming Sai. When Zhou Qing received the news and realized the danger, it was too late. The remaining Di main force concentrated entirely on the western side, launching fierce attacks. Zhou Qing led troops to provide support. Normally, the journey would take half a day, but now the roads were muddy, with shallow areas filled with rainwater. Horse hooves and soldiers’ feet sank into the mud, greatly hindering progress—it would take at least a day to arrive.

The defending forces on the western side had to face Di troops suddenly numbering several times their own. The deputy general knew the heavy responsibility—if the Di army broke through his position and drove in, then flanked from behind, the entire Zhenming military town would fall into danger. Though he was already wounded in multiple places, he dared not retreat a single step, leading his soldiers in brave defense of the fortress. During the fierce fighting, his mount was shot down by a stray arrow. Unprepared, he fell from his horse and crashed to the ground. To make matters worse, one leg was trampled by a horse’s hoof and broken on the spot, leaving him unable to rise. A Di soldier and an officer surrounding him seized the opportunity and viciously lunged at him from the front and back. Lying on his back, he endured the severe pain and cut down the Di soldier in front, but at the same time, another blade was already falling toward his head from behind, and he had no strength left to dodge. Nearby, his soldiers were each caught in their fierce battles, unable to break free to rescue their endangered commander despite the desperate situation.

Just as he was about to die under the blade, a warhorse charged like lightning from the side. The rider’s sword swept out with a whoosh of wind, severing the hand above his head at the wrist. The severed hand, still gripping the knife, fell to the ground together.

Accompanied by the agonized screams of the Di officer behind him and the rain of blood falling on his head, this deputy general escaped death. In his daze, he looked up to see a handsome young man leaning down and reaching out to grab him. He was pulled onto the horse’s back, and the man fought his way out of the battle zone before setting him down.

This deputy general did not recognize his rescuer, but since the man had saved him, he must be a friend, not a foe. Coming to his senses, he looked up toward the battlefield he was responsible for, worried that his absence would shake morale. Despite his broken leg, he struggled to rise and return, but was stopped by this person. Hearing what the man said, his eyes lit up with wild joy. Summoning all his strength, he shouted toward the front: “Listen, soldiers! He is a messenger sent by General Zhou! The General will soon arrive with reinforcements! Kill them all, hold the line—” After shouting, he relaxed and could no longer support himself, collapsing unconscious.

The soldiers, vastly outnumbered and under frenzied attack, were gradually losing ground when they suddenly heard this news. Seeing the young man who had just rescued their commander charge back into the battle line, leading the assault against the Di army, they were greatly encouraged and invigorated. Everyone of them gritted their teeth, their eyes red with fury, following him in desperate combat.

When Zhou Qing finally arrived with reinforcements, the tide turned. The Di soldiers’ retreat was cut off by floodwaters, and countless men jumped into the great marsh, with innumerable drownings. After the battle ended, he learned that someone claiming to be sent by him had not only saved his capable deputy general but also shot dead the main general of this Di force, stabilizing the situation until his arrival. Yet no one in the army seemed to recognize this person, which made him curious. He had someone lead him to meet this man. Arriving, he saw the person covered in blood, standing by the flooded boundary river, gazing upstream at the turbulent floodwaters under dark clouds, his brow slightly furrowed, his expression seemingly carrying hidden worry.

“Who are you? Your contribution this time is significant! State your name, and this general will recommend you for merit before General Changning—”

Zhou Qing laughed heartily and strode quickly toward the man. Suddenly, his steps halted, and his eyes widened in shock.

“Your Highness!”

“This subordinate did not know the Regent Prince had arrived! Your Highness, forgive my offense!”

He hurriedly changed his manner and came forward to pay his respects.

Shu Shenhui turned around, walked over, and commanded Zhou Qing to rise: “I am no longer the Regent Prince; there is no need for such a ceremony.”

The surrounding soldiers had been curiously observing him, noting his extraordinary bearing. Seeing this scene, they were all stunned.

The Regent Prince was General Changning’s husband—this was known to everyone in the army. Once they realized this, they all hurriedly knelt as well.

Shu Shenhui ordered everyone to rise.

Zhou Qing was overjoyed: “How did Your Highness come to be here?”

Shu Shenhui asked about Jiang Hanyuan. Zhou Qing quickly replied: “The General has been at Xirou Sai for some time. Chi Shu led troops in a surprise attack, but it should not be a major problem. The reinforcements sent out should have arrived long ago by now. Please rest assured, Your Highness—”

Suddenly, he paused, his gaze falling on the torrential waters beside them that had been swollen for several days, his expression changing slightly.

Xirou Sai was located several hundred li upstream on the opposite bank from Zhenming Sai. Normally, sending troops there would take four or five days, but this time they encountered upstream flooding. With virtually no footing on either bank, the army sent out days ago was blocked by the road conditions. Finally reaching the original crossing point, they discovered the pontoon bridge had been destroyed by the floodwaters, leaving the army stranded on the southern bank, unable to cross.

When Shu Shenhui reached the crossing, looking at the muddy river water carrying broken wood and various drowned animal carcasses from upstream in an endless flow, his expression was extremely grim.

Zhang Mi was responsible for leading this relief force to Xirou Sai.

For the past several days, to cross the river, he had tried every conceivable method, but all were in vain. Looking at Shu Shenhui standing rigidly on the bank, he knelt to confess his failure: “This subordinate is incompetent! This subordinate has repeatedly tried ordering soldiers to link arms and enter the water, but they simply cannot maintain footing. The center of the river is extremely deep with strong currents. Without ropes tied around their bodies beforehand, people would be swept away—”

Shu Shenhui gazed at the opposite bank, standing motionless, his silhouette unmoving.

The distant horizon was dark. Xirou Sai’s military town was located several dozen li away on the northern bank, invisible from here. But there were fewer than two thousand troops there in total, while Chi Shu had come prepared for a surprise attack on the military town. The situation there could be imagined—being trapped was inevitable, and at worst, the most dire possibility…

Zhang Mi dared not imagine further. Gritting his teeth, he suddenly stood up from the ground, turned around, and loudly called for volunteers ready to die, about to order another attempt to form a human wall and enter the water. Suddenly, he saw Shu Shenhui order men to bring over a round log originally planned for building the pontoon bridge, commanding it to be pushed into the water. Zhang Mi initially did not understand and dared not ask too many questions, only having soldiers comply. The floating log immediately began tumbling uncontrollably in the rushing water, bobbing up and down in the turbulent waves, spinning in circles.

“Your Highness?”

He still could not understand the purpose of pushing the floating log into the water. Relying on this single log to cross the river was utterly impossible. Just as the question left his mouth, Shu Shenhui had already leaped into the water, grasping the floating log. Immediately, he began spinning rapidly with the log on the water’s surface, swept toward the center of the river.

“Your Highness!”

Zhang Mi and Zhou Qing, and others who had come along finally understood his intention.

Though the river surface was turbulent with waves, the underwater current should be relatively calmer. He intended to cross the river by his strength, diving underwater.

This was an extremely dangerous action. The river water was as muddy as yellow clay, making it impossible to see underwater, not to mention the undercurrents and whirlpools. The slightest carelessness could lead to disaster.

Everyone saw that as soon as he entered the water, he immediately sank with one end of the floating log as it was pressed down by a wave, disappearing beneath the surface in an instant. All were terrified, shouting. Moments later, when he surfaced, he was already several zhang away in the center of the river.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

Zhang Mi and Zhou Qing followed along the riverbank for a stretch, seeing only the floating log sinking and surfacing repeatedly in the center of the broad water surface, with it repeatedly sinking and surfacing as well.

The last time, when the floating log surfaced again, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Your Highness—”

Zhang Mi and Zhou Qing were terrified out of their wits, immediately falling to their knees in the mud, eyes wide open, staring at the muddy waters ahead. But they saw only endless vastness—where was any trace of his figure to be found?

…

After Jiang Hanyuan sent out her message, she encountered Chi Shu’s surprise attack with his large force. She led two thousand soldiers in retreat to an already abandoned fortress, taking shifts guarding the entrances.

By her calculation, they only needed to hold for four or five days before the army would arrive. But unexpectedly, the reinforcements never came. She guessed it must be the continuous heavy rains causing floods and blocking transportation. Now, she and her subordinate soldiers had been trapped here for seven days and nights, fighting bloodily for seven days and nights. Just this evening, after another half-day of difficult, bloody battle, they finally repelled the outside attack once more. The entrances were piled high with the corpses of slain Di soldiers.

The air inside the fortress was filled with the putrid stench of rotting corpses mixed with blood—a smell foul enough to make one vomit. But for Jiang Hanyuan and the soldiers who had been fighting for many days, they had long since lost all sensation of it. The greatest problem they were about to face was not the coming bloody battles, but that they were nearly out of drinkable dirty water, and their remaining edible dry rations were also completely exhausted. If they were trapped like this for two more days, without any external attack, they would completely lose all fighting capacity.

Outside the fortress, the aroma of Di soldiers roasting meat drifted in. The soldiers said nothing—some silently tended to their wounds, some sat leaning against wall corners with eyes closed in drowsy half-sleep, some quietly chewed their last remaining piece of dry ration while cursing the enemies outside under their breath.

Jiang Hanyuan suddenly stood up and asked the surrounding soldiers: “Why did you all join the army?”

The soldiers were startled, looking at her. Initially, they looked at each other without anyone speaking. Jiang Hanyuan pointed to Zhang Jun, who was sitting not far away on the ground: “You speak first.”

Zhang Jun hesitated, then said, “Everyone in my family died, and I joined the military to find food.”

Jiang Hanyuan nodded and asked a soldier beside him: “What about you?”

That soldier grinned: “I want to save money so I can go home and marry a fat wife.”

Everyone around burst into laughter. The soldier scratched his head, indignantly saying: “What are you laughing at? Which of you dares say you’ve never thought about it?”

The laughter grew louder, and the originally low and gloomy atmosphere became more relaxed. Soon, soldiers began competing to speak. Some said they wanted to achieve merit and establish careers, others said they wanted to bring glory to their ancestors and boast before their neighbors. Everyone chattered at once, saying all kinds of things.

Jiang Hanyuan nodded and smiled: “Regardless of your reasons for joining the military, you are all good sons. The war was originally about to end, and you will soon be able to return home, marry wives, have children, build houses, and farm the land—what wonderful prospects!”

As her words fell, the soldiers all gazed longingly into the distance. But soon, thinking of their current situation, the atmosphere grew somber again, and no one spoke further.

Jiang Hanyuan’s tone shifted: “Tonight, there will be an opportunity to break out. Though difficult, it’s better than being trapped here to die. Rest now, eat something, and restore your spirits. When the time comes, listen to orders and prepare to break out!”

What the soldiers feared most was seeing no hope and eventually being trapped here to die. As long as there was hope of breaking out, no matter how difficult, no one would be afraid. Moreover, they had complete trust in this female general before them. If she said so, there would be an opportunity.

In the dim torchlight, every face immediately became excited, sweeping away the previous fatigue and dejection.

Jiang Hanyuan looked around the circle, finally signaling Yang Hu and Cui Jiu to follow her, stopping in a corner where no one was around.

“General, what did you mean just now? Where is this breakout opportunity?” Yang Hu asked impatiently.

Jiang Hanyuan said: “Tomorrow we will be out of food and water, arrows are nearly gone, and reinforcements probably cannot arrive for some time. Chi Shu hates me to the bone. Tonight, you two organize the soldiers to use arrow formations to clear a path for me. I will seize a horse and charge out. Chi Shu will surely send heavy troops to pursue me, and then you two can lead the soldiers to break out while taking advantage of the opportunity. I previously scouted the terrain—there is a swampland to the northwest. Take the men there. The rains have stopped over the past days. If you can hold on for another three to five days until the floodwaters subside somewhat, reinforcements will surely arrive.”

Her expression was calm, and her tone was unhurried as she spoke these words, clearly the result of deep consideration.

Before she finished speaking, Yang Hu and Cui Jiu were greatly alarmed: “Absolutely not!”

How could they not understand her meaning? And how could they agree?

Jiang Hanyuan looked at Yang Hu and Cui Jiu: “If my method won’t work, do you have a better one?”

The two fell silent.

They knew the situation here all too well. They understood that using the female general’s method might allow them to fight their way out, otherwise…

“If we delay, everyone dies,” she said in a cold voice.

“Luck cannot always be on my side. This time it isn’t. Heaven wants to end me, but I cannot accept fate! You heard the soldiers’ wishes just now. They trust my father, they trust me, and are willing to follow the Jiang father and daughter in battle to the end. Now they can see the fulfillment of their wishes, returning home to live the lives they want. There is still a chance to fight our way out—why should they die here with me?”

“I will accompany the General!” Yang Hu said without hesitation.

Jiang Hanyuan said coolly, “Cui Jiu alone probably cannot lead the breakout. You must coordinate with him, each leading a team! This is an order! I need no companions—one more person means one more burden.”

“General!” Yang Hu’s eyes glistened with moisture as he called out tremblingly. Jiang Hanyuan acted as if she had not heard, turning toward the silent Cui Jiu.

He slowly knelt before her, kowtowing heavily, saying solemnly: “This subordinate will do everything possible and will not fail the General’s trust!”

She looked again at Yang Hu. Yang Hu clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, and finally slowly knelt as well.

Jiang Hanyuan signaled for both to rise, drawing on the ground the route she would take to charge out and the route for their breakout. Finished, she ordered them to organize the soldiers and make arrangements.

Yang Hu and Cui Jiu went among the soldiers and explained their plan, but did not mention that they would be charging out single-handedly. The soldiers assumed there were other arrangements, and no one suspected anything.

Most of these soldiers came from Qingmu Camp, with extremely high tactical training and strict discipline. They quickly understood the coming action, memorized it, and began preparations, all eager to fight.

Jiang Hanyuan sat on the ground, closing her eyes to rest. After a moment, she opened them.

Yang Hu had returned, standing quietly before her.

“Everything has been arranged according to the General’s instructions,” he said softly.

Jiang Hanyuan nodded: “You should also rest and prepare for a fierce battle.”

Yang Hu bowed his head and slowly turned around.

“Wait.”

Jiang Hanyuan suddenly called him back. After a moment of silence, she drew from her waist the short knife she had always carried with her, handed it over, and smiled slightly: “I trouble you—if you can meet the Regent Prince in the future, please return this knife to him for me. Tell him—”

She stopped.

The words she wanted to say seemed so numerous, all rushing to her heart at this moment. Yet thinking again, she did not know which sentence to speak.

—If there were another life, she would be willing to guide that young soldier again.

This sentence suddenly appeared in her heart, and she was slightly lost in thought.

At this moment, a soldier responsible for lookout suddenly exclaimed: “General! Someone is coming outside!”

“It’s the Regent Prince! I saw him last time in Fengyue City of the Eight Tribes! It’s the Regent Prince!”

“That’s right! It’s him!”

“He seems to be injured! His forehead is bleeding!”

“How strange that he seems to be alone!”

The soldiers chosen for lookout duty had excellent eyesight. Along with their continuous calls, confused shouting came from outside, as if the Di soldiers were urgently forming ranks, with horses neighing and a tense atmosphere.

Jiang Hanyuan’s heart jumped violently. Awakening, she leaped up from the ground and rushed over, taking the soldier’s place. She leaned toward the small square lookout opening in the fortress and peered out.

Outside, the Di forces surrounding the fortress had torches blazing brightly. She saw on a hill, not even an arrow’s shot away, a warhorse standing at the top with a man sitting high on its back. The man held a torch in one hand and gripped the reins with the other. The night wind was strong, making the torch’s flame seem to roar and flicker, illuminating his wet hair and somewhat pale face.

It truly was Shu Shenhui!

The lookout soldier was right—there was dried blood on one side of his temple, and he appeared to be alone, even his mount appearing to be a Di warhorse judging by its bridle and saddle.

How had he come? Why had he ventured so close to the Di army? What did he intend to do?

She was stunned, her heart pounding, not yet fully recovered, when she heard him burst into loud laughter.

“Chi Shu! Do you still remember this Prince? The Great Wei Regent Shu Shenhui! Since we parted in Chang’an, we meet again today! That day, you fell into this Prince’s hands, torn by dogs, unable to live or die, cutting such a pathetic figure. Finally, like a gecko, you severed your arm to barely escape. I heard you later had an iron claw attached to your severed arm as a weapon. I wonder if it’s convenient to use? If not, this Prince can have one forged for you—consider it an apology!”

He spoke from his high position with full vigor. Not only could those outside the fortress hear clearly, but even those inside could hear every word. His laughter carried on the night wind throughout the area, full of contempt. As his laughter continued, he casually threw the torch in his hand toward the opposite side, then took up the bow and arrows hanging on his saddle, drew the bow to full extension, and shot an arrow.

The feathered arrow seemed to carry tremendous force, whistling toward Chi Shu. Several nearby guards rushed forward, knocking Chi Shu to the ground. An officer behind him could not dodge in time—before he could react, the arrowhead pierced his throat and emerged through the back. The man fell to the ground, clutching his throat and making agonized gurgling sounds.

“The Great Wei Regent Prince!”

Di soldiers cried out in alarm. Chi Shu, in dodging the arrow, appeared quite disheveled. Seeing the surrounding people turning to look at him, their gazes fixed on his left arm, he became even more flushed with shame and anger.

Naturally, he would not let others know of such events as that day, but he had not expected to be publicly mocked like this. Burning with rage, he glared hatefully at the figure on the opposite hilltop, then looked back at the fortress behind him that was about to be breached. Just as he hesitated, a soldier who had quietly approached to scout came running back, shouting as he ran: “He’s alone! He’s alone! There are no troops behind him.” Before he finished speaking, Shu Shenhui shot another arrow, and the Di soldier fell to the ground.

A tremendous commotion arose among the Di forces.

Given the opponent’s status, coming alone to challenge them, they dared not act rashly at first, fearing a trap. Now confirmed that this Great Wei Regent Prince had truly come alone, their malicious courage was immediately aroused.

If they could capture the Great Wei Regent Prince alive—no, even just killing him, not to mention the merit, the resulting fame and reputation could be imagined.

Everyone’s eyes shot out greedy and excited gleams.

The hatred of being torn by dogs, the humiliation of being pierced by arrows, the pain of forced amputation—each memory surfaced in his mind. Chi Shu’s eyes turned blood red. No longer hesitating, he left men to continue surrounding this place while he mounted his horse and led a contingent of troops in rapid pursuit toward the opposite hilltop.

Shu Shenhui remained motionless at the hilltop, standing resolute against the night wind, looking down coldly at the front until Chi Shu led his troops to the bottom of the hill and arrows shot chaotically toward the hilltop. Only then did he turn his face slightly, glancing at the fortress shrouded in night, then spurred his horse, gave a low shout of “giddy-up,” turned around, and galloped down the slope.

That figure thus vanished suddenly from the hilltop, never to be seen again.

Jiang Hanyuan stood behind that small square lookout opening, her hands clenched tightly, her heart beating so fast it nearly leaped from her throat, her throat so choked she was almost sobbing.

At this distance, he couldn’t see her. But she knew that his final glance toward her—he was looking at her.

She also knew what he intended to do.

As if their hearts were connected.

He had done what she had originally intended to do.

This thought flashing through her mind made her suddenly alert.

She must not miss the opportunity he had given her!

She must quickly lead her soldiers to fight their way out, then go to meet him.

She quickly suppressed the heat in her eyes, turned around sharply, and shouted to the soldiers: “Everyone prepare! According to the plan we made, break out!”