Fan Changyu spent three days thoroughly mastering the techniques He Jingyuan had taught her.

Unfortunately, without a sparring partner, she couldn’t gauge how much she had improved.

Fan Changyu counted the days—she could return home after tomorrow. When she did, she would have to properly spar with Xie Zheng.

During her last visit to the military camp, Xie Zheng had mentioned coming to Chongzhou with official business. From what he’d implied, he would likely stay in Chongzhou for some time.

So each day, besides training with the army, Fan Changyu squeezed in time to practice her woodcarving skills.

After ruining countless pieces of wood, she finally managed to carve something resembling a small figurine.

However, at the end of that day’s training, Commander Guo suddenly announced: “From today onward, the military camp is sealed. No one is permitted to leave, and daily training hours will be doubled.”

The soldiers whispered among themselves, while Fan Changyu and another Squad Leader exchanged bewildered glances.

“What are you muttering about?”

With Commander Guo’s stern rebuke and fierce glare sweeping across them, the deliberately hushed discussions immediately subsided.

He gruffly ordered, “The two Squad Leaders stay behind. Everyone else, return to the barracks and await orders!”

The soldiers dispersed in small groups, quiet discussions spreading once more.

Fan Changyu and the other Squad Leader remained in place, waiting for Commander Guo’s instructions.

Commander Guo looked at them both and said, “Your opportunity for glory has arrived. The main force lacks sufficient numbers, so we’ll be assigned to the right flank behind the vanguard to support the main army’s assault. Some soldiers serve for ten years and only trail behind the main army, cleaning up battlefields. This time, we’ve caught a lucky break. Since ancient times, wealth and glory have always been sought amid danger. I’ve never been a coward in my life, so don’t bring me a den of cowards and make me lose face!”

Only after Fan Changyu and the other Squad Leader repeatedly promised to intensify their training did Commander Guo dismiss them.

The battle in Chongzhou had been at a stalemate for a long time. Fan Changyu hadn’t expected such a major confrontation between the two armies so soon. As she walked back with her mind heavy with concerns, Commander Guo called her back. With half his face hidden behind his thick beard, he said gruffly, “I know you must have connections higher up, and your martial skills aren’t bad. But if you face danger on the battlefield, no one in my troop will sacrifice themselves to save you. If you want to find someone higher up to reassign you elsewhere, there’s still time.”

Fan Changyu merely glanced at Commander Guo once, then left without saying a word.

Back at the barracks, the soldiers who were friendly with each other gathered in groups, seemingly still discussing the implications of Commander Guo’s words.

Seeing Fan Changyu, someone asked, “Squad Leader Fan, are we going to war?”

To appear more authoritative, Fan Changyu rarely spoke when in public and maintained a stoic expression.

Surprisingly, this method was quite effective. She hardly ever lost her temper, yet the soldiers under her command seemed rather afraid of her.

Of course, this might also have been influenced by how, on her first day leading the squad, she had shattered Commander Guo’s large saber with two iron hammers.

After she stiffly grunted “Mm,” the soldiers fell silent for quite a while. Their faces showed apprehension about the unknown and sadness at the thought of possibly never seeing their parents, wives, and children again.

Fan Changyu knew that even soldiers feared war. After all, before donning their uniforms, they were just laborers seeking a livelihood or diligent farmers.

She didn’t offer any inspiring words, only saying, “In the coming days, everyone should practice their sword and spear skills diligently. We aren’t seeking fortune and glory, but we need survival skills to stay alive on the battlefield and return home to our wives, mothers, and children when the war is over.”

After a pause, she added, “I survived One Line Gorge with just a butcher’s knife because those rebels haven’t killed as many people as the pigs I’ve slaughtered before.”

She thought hard, finally remembering the term, and stated with an air of authority, “Practice makes perfect applies everywhere. You’re afraid on the battlefield, but the foot soldiers among the rebels are afraid too. When everyone’s afraid, it comes down to who can swing their sword or thrust their spear faster while afraid.”

The soldiers burst into laughter, and the tense atmosphere dissipated considerably.

With the upcoming training directly affecting their survival, and with Fan Changyu’s “practice makes perfect” statement as motivation, the several dozen men under her command trained with exceptional diligence.

Xie Five was particularly generous in teaching them numerous lethal combat techniques.

On the eve of their departure for battle, a soldier from the troop approached Fan Changyu and entrusted her with all the military pay he had received since enlisting.

He said, “Squad Leader, I’m my mother’s only son. I’m from Huangping County in Jizhou. If I die, please help me take this silver to my mother.”

He ran off after saying this. Fan Changyu stared at the pieces of silver in her palm for a long time before finally putting them away.

In the past, she had also feared the battlefield, but thinking of her parents’ vendetta, of Yu Qianqian trapped inside Chongzhou city, and of Xie Zheng, she became fearless.

Military merit was currently the best path she could think of to accomplish all these things herself.

Now, however, she had another conviction in her heart—she hoped to lead every soldier under her command off the battlefield alive.

With several hours left before deployment, Fan Changyu lay awake, unable to sleep. She retrieved her half-carved wooden figurine from under her pillow and continued carving.

She had already carved the hair and now rotated the blade to slowly carve out the eyes.

Since it was a round-headed doll figurine, she made the eyes slightly larger.

Recalling Xie Zheng’s appearance, she carved the outer corners of the eyes upward as she finished. The previously dull-looking doll suddenly acquired a haughty air, as if looking down its nose at people.

Fan Changyu couldn’t help but smile. She poked the doll’s chubby cheeks and muttered softly, “Quite resemblant.”

She wondered where he might be now.

The moon had reached its zenith, startling crows in the forest.

Zhao Xun was forced to kneel, surrounded by corpses—all his guards.

His face was deathly pale, cold sweat covering his forehead, his pupils reflecting the blood still dripping from a sword tip in the firelight. Trembling, he called out, “M-Marquis…”

Xie Zheng shook off the thick blood from his sword and slightly turned his gaze toward him: “Even a cunning rabbit has only three burrows, but Young Master Zhao has so many that it truly made it difficult for this Marquis to find you.”

A cool breeze swept through the treetops, and in the night, with only the sound of wind, his voice was cold and somewhat nonchalant.

Days earlier, after Fan Changyu had returned to camp, Xie Zheng had gone to see Grand Tutor Tao. He had intended to discuss matters concerning the Imperial Grandson and the Li family with Grand Tutor Tao, but Tao had mentioned urgent business requiring him to visit the capital. He asked Xie Zheng to thoroughly investigate the connection between the Crown Imperial Grandson and the Prince of Changxin before his return.

Xie Zheng had agreed and had initially wanted to find He Jingyuan to demand answers about Fan Changyu’s origins.

But unfortunately, He Jingyuan was personally inspecting provisions and military equipment shipped by the court with Li Huai’an. Xie Zheng was officially in Kangcheng, and appearing suddenly in Chongzhou would only give the Li faction an excuse to accuse him of deserting his post. Thus, he directly began investigating the Crown Imperial Grandson matter.

The person directly connected to the Crown Imperial Grandson was Zhao Xun, so naturally he started his investigation there.

Since the Zhao family was in the business world with extensive connections, Zhao Xun had already left the city before Chongzhou was surrounded.

The Zhao family’s business interests were vast, with numerous outposts, and Xie Zheng had expended considerable effort before finally cornering his target.

When Zhao Xun saw Xie Zheng appearing in person, he already knew things were dire. He struggled to respond: “The Marquis jests. If there’s anything the Marquis needs from Zhao, I would certainly offer my utmost loyalty…”

Xie Zheng looked at him with a half-smile: “That’s exactly what Young Master Zhao said when you found me in Qingping County earlier this year.”

Zhao Xun’s expression froze.

Xie Zheng’s blood-stained sword rested on his shoulder. Zhao Xun swallowed with difficulty and said hoarsely, “Please calm your anger, Marquis. My worthless life is in others’ hands. In many matters, I had no choice.”

Xie Zheng applied slightly more pressure, forcing the blade down. Zhao Xun was so frightened that he dared not say another word. Cold sweat poured down his temples like beads, and his body became rigid as iron.

The bloodied sword brushed across his clothing at the shoulder, leaving a glaring bloodstain.

Though there was still a layer of clothing between them, Zhao Xun seemed to already feel the cold of the blade and the stickiness of fresh blood soaking his garment. The smell of blood stimulated his senses, leaving his face so white it seemed devoid of blood, his entire body trembling like a sieve.

Xie Zheng withdrew his sword and handed it to a guard behind him, saying casually, “Don’t mind it, just borrowing Young Master Zhao’s clothes to wipe off some blood.”

Zhao Xun collapsed completely, pleading, “Please, Marquis, grant this lowly one a chance to live.”

A thin smile touched Xie Zheng’s lips as he said, “When this Marquis was in dire straits, Young Master Zhao purchased two hundred thousand stone of grain for me. One could say we’re old acquaintances. Let me ask Young Master Zhao a few questions. If you answer truthfully, this Marquis won’t make things difficult for you.”

His mention of the grain purchase only made Zhao Xun’s face turn even paler.

He had bought the grain then because he’d seen that Wei Yan wanted him dead, while Grand Tutor Li was watching the tigers fight, only wanting to escalate matters to better impeach Wei Yan. Thus, he had proactively stockpiled grain for Jinzhou.

But Zhao Xun had deliberately left clues for He Jingyuan, letting him know that Xie Zheng had bought the grain.

Originally, he had hoped to pit Xie and He against each other, since one had fallen out with Wei Yan while the other remained loyal to him. Unexpectedly, He Jingyuan had taken no action, which led to Wei Xuan forcibly requisitioning grain, Sui Yuanqing impersonating grain requisition officials to kill people, and fanning the flames.

He kowtowed deeply to Xie Zheng, his forehead touching the ground, his voice trembling: “Please calm your anger, Marquis. This lowly one did advise His Highness at the time, but my humble position carried little weight, and I could not sway His Highness’s decision. What happened then was certainly not my intention.”

Xie Zheng asked, “You claim to serve the Crown Imperial Grandson. How can this Marquis believe that the person behind you is indeed the Crown Imperial Grandson?”

A hint of struggle flashed in Zhao Xun’s eyes, but he finally answered, “My mother was a senior palace maid serving the Crown Prince’s Consort. Later, when she reached the appropriate age, she was released from the palace—ostensibly to marry my father, but actually to manage the Crown Prince Consort’s properties outside the palace in secret.”

Xie Zheng had already ordered men to check the records regarding the Eastern Palace fire case and knew that the Crown Prince’s Consort indeed had a senior palace maid who was released from the palace at age twenty-five.

The defeat at Jinzhou and the Eastern Palace fire had occurred one after another. With the death of Crown Prince Chengde, followed by the tragic fate of the Crown Prince’s Consort and the Crown Imperial Grandson, any clear-sighted person could see that these two events must be connected.

Behind the Eastern Palace fire might lie the truth about the tragedy at Jinzhou.

One of Xie Zheng’s hands behind his back unconsciously tightened as he asked coldly, “Didn’t the Crown Prince’s Consort and the Crown Imperial Grandson all die in the Eastern Palace fire?”

Zhao Xun answered, “The Eastern Palace fire was set by the Crown Prince’s Consort herself, to give the Crown Imperial Grandson a chance at survival.”

Xie Zheng’s brows furrowed severely as he asked, “Who wanted the Crown Imperial Grandson dead?”

Zhao Xun smiled bitterly: “This lowly one truly doesn’t know. My mother only received a letter personally written by the Crown Prince’s Consort about the Crown Imperial Grandson’s whereabouts after the Eastern Palace fire. But the letter made no mention of who was plotting against the Eastern Palace.”

Xie Zheng’s gaze turned cold, his face showing contempt: “So Young Master Zhao has fabricated a lie to fool this Marquis?”

Zhao Xun hurriedly replied, “I wouldn’t dare! If the Marquis doesn’t believe me, there’s still the Crown Prince Consort’s handwritten letter and token as proof.”

Xie Zheng’s phoenix eyes were deep and inscrutable in the firelight, their true emotion impossible to discern. He asked, “Is the Crown Imperial Grandson the eldest son of today’s Prince of Changxin?”

Having extracted so much information already, and knowing that Zhao Xun had close dealings with the Prince of Changxin’s household—plus Changnin’s previous mention that Yu Bao’er and her son were being held at the Prince of Changxin’s residence—everything pointed to one answer, making Xie Zheng’s final question quite certain.

Zhao Xun dared not conceal the truth and nodded.

Xie Zheng narrowed his slender eyes.

Everything aligned. The Prince of Changxin’s rebellion could only proceed under the banner of eliminating Wei Yan and “purifying the court,” but he dared not directly invoke the Crown Imperial Grandson’s legitimate claim because the Prince of Changxin was unaware that his son had been switched.

Nor did the Crown Imperial Grandson dare reveal himself.

After all, if the Prince of Changxin was willing to rebel outright, once he discovered his son had been replaced all these years, he likely wouldn’t spare the Crown Imperial Grandson’s life.

Xie Zheng asked, “Was Sui Yuanqing’s appearance in Qingping County earlier this year also the Crown Imperial Grandson’s doing?”

Sweat dripped from Zhao Xun’s eyelids as he answered, “Yes.”

Through Zhao Xun, the Crown Imperial Grandson had learned that Xie Zheng was in Qingping County and had arranged for Sui Yuanqing to go there, intending to use Xie Zheng to eliminate Sui Yuanqing.

At that time, Chongzhou showed no signs of defeat. If the Prince of Changxin could take advantage of the Xie family army being tied up with the Northern Xue, he might seize Jizhou in one decisive move and continue south. Marching to the capital to force the Emperor’s hand wasn’t impossible.

But the Prince of Changxin had established Sui Yuanqing as his heir. If they conquered the empire, Sui Yuanqing would inherit the throne.

That’s why the Crown Imperial Grandson wanted Sui Yuanqing dead.

Now, with the Prince of Changxin defeated, the Crown Imperial Grandson also knew that reclaiming the throne by force was no longer viable, which was why he had been repeatedly showing goodwill toward the Li family.

Xie Zheng sneered coldly: “So this is what the descendant of Crown Prince Chengde amounts to?”

Zhao Xun smiled bitterly: “To replace the Prince of Changxin’s eldest son during his childhood, His Highness had half his face burned off, leaving him with chronic ailments. Over the years, his moods have become increasingly unpredictable. Though I am merely a merchant covered in the stench of copper, I can distinguish right from wrong. I secretly admire world-class heroes like Your Lordship, and I understand clearly that should His Highness inherit the throne one day, the common people would suffer greatly.”

After an apparent internal struggle, he finally risked expressing his thoughts: “His Highness already has offspring—I believe Your Lordship has met them. The female proprietor of Yixiang Pavilion in Qingping County is His Highness’s escaped concubine, and her child is the Imperial Great-Grandson. In today’s world, as Your Lordship has seen, imperial power wanes, factional struggles persist, and the common people suffer. Your Lordship surpasses even the former Wei Yan in capability. If Your Lordship is willing to emulate Wei Yan and support the Imperial Great-Grandson’s ascension, this lowly one is willing to serve Your Lordship with utmost loyalty!”

Xie Zheng showed not the slightest interest in his words, as if he couldn’t be bothered with any of it. His upturned lips carried a hint of mockery as he said: “You can betray your master and turn to this Marquis. How can this Marquis be sure you won’t turn to someone else next?”

Throughout history, servants of two masters have always been despised.

Zhao Xun understood this principle well and finally revealed everything: “This lowly one simply wants to secure survival for myself and my mother. Since the Imperial Great-Grandson was found, His Highness’s temperament has become increasingly erratic. He even sent shadow guards to monitor me and my mother, just to prevent us from supporting the Imperial Great-Grandson instead. His Highness’s suspicions grow daily, and this lowly one fears he might take action against me and my mother someday.”

He paused, then added, “This lowly one also felt from the first glance that Your Lordship is a man of great character, which is why I dare speak such presumptuous words before Your Lordship.”

Xie Zheng ignored his flattering remarks, half-lowering his dark lashes as if contemplating the current situation.

The pine resin torches crackled as they burned, sounding particularly clear in the night where only the wind could be heard.

Xie Zheng asked, “Where are the Imperial Great-Grandson and his mother now?”

Zhao Xun answered with difficulty, “They are still in Chongzhou city with my mother.”

They were essentially hostages, ensuring his loyalty while he worked outside.

Hearing this, Xie Zheng’s brows slightly furrowed.

The Crown Imperial Grandson was now cooperating with the Li faction. To help the Li faction claim military credit for Chongzhou, they would first need to bring down He Jingyuan.

With the capital and Chongzhou a thousand miles apart, news of the court’s impeachment of He Jingyuan had not yet reached Xie Zheng’s ears.

He asked, “What leverage have you obtained against He Jingyuan?”

Fan Changyu spent the entire night carving her wooden doll, finally completing both the head and body.

It wasn’t exactly beautiful, but the longer she looked at it, the more endearing it seemed.

She was quite satisfied with her first creation.

While washing up, Xie Five produced a heart-protecting mirror from somewhere and told her to carry it inside her uniform.

Fan Changyu looked at the size of the protective mirror and decided that the two steel plates she had forged while traveling from Jizhou to find Changnin would be safer.

When Xie Five learned she intended to bind a steel plate both front and back, he was stunned speechless.

Fan Changyu thought that Xie Five was shocked because he’d never seen someone as afraid of death as she was, but adhering to the principle that survival was paramount, she resolutely tucked away the plates.

Generals wore heart-protecting mirrors because their armor already protected other vital areas, with the chest being the final layer of defense.

The common soldier’s uniform she wore probably couldn’t even stop a single blade strike, so in crucial moments, the steel plates would be her lifesaver.

Since Xie Five felt the palm-sized heart-protecting mirror was inconvenient and would affect his agility, Fan Changyu secretly gave it to the soldier who had entrusted her with his silver.

When he received the heart-protecting mirror, he looked at Fan Changyu with tears in his eyes, as if regarding a parent who had given him a second life, making Fan Changyu particularly embarrassed.

When Commander Guo inspected the troops and found that Fan Changyu hadn’t left, his eyes showed a complex emotion—whether fear of trouble or something else was unclear.

He shouted, “On the battlefield, killing one enemy means breaking even, killing two means profit! For those who return alive, I’ll host a celebration!”

Fan Changyu joined the surrounding soldiers in shouting “Good!”

Fear, passion, and concern—all seemed to be released in that single shout.

Unlike her previous battlefield experience, this time Fan Changyu’s unit wasn’t positioned as far back, nor were they sent as mid-battle reinforcements. They could see the full battle formation before the armies engaged.

The two sides looked like two black ant colonies facing off. From such a distance, they could only see the red tassels tied to the rebels’ long halberds forming a continuous line.

When the horns from both sides sounded, the vanguard troops from both armies roared forward, quickly colliding with what seemed like a muffled boom.

Fan Changyu thought that among the soldiers, those in the vanguard must have the greatest courage.

After all, those behind followed those in front, but those in front charged directly into the enemy’s blades and spears.

What surprised and reassured her was that the several dozen soldiers under her command followed her almost inseparably. Wherever she struck, they immediately rushed over.

Fan Changyu couldn’t tell if they stayed so close to protect her or to seek her protection.

But their formation acted like a wedge, with Fan Changyu as the tip. There was no place she couldn’t pierce through, with Xie Five always following just three steps behind her.

In Fan Changyu’s hands, the glaive became a blur of motion. As she advanced, she could initially see the shadows of the vanguard, but later found that all within her sight were enemy troops.

Remembering they were supposed to support the vanguard, she grew anxious when she could no longer see them. While continuing to charge forward and fight, she asked Xie Five, “Can you see the vanguard’s battle flag?”

The vanguard was responsible for breaking through the rebel camp. They were supposed to squeeze through the gap opened by the vanguard, allowing the infantry behind them to widen this gap and divide the rebel forces.

If they became cut off at any point and surrounded by rebels, they would be trapped like dumplings—a situation with only the slimmest chance of survival.

Xie Five’s face was covered in blood. He swung his blade horizontally at a charging rebel and replied somewhat desperately, “The vanguard has been scattered! We’ve become the vanguard now!”

Fan Changyu uttered a confused “Ah,” using her glaive’s reach advantage to force back an attacking soldier. Looking back, she realized that the soldiers following her had grown from the initial few dozen to a vast multitude.

Commander Guo was not far behind her, leaning on his long sword and panting heavily. He cursed, “You fool, charging forward like you’re rushing to reincarnate! You’ve turned my right flank into the vanguard!”

Xie Five ignored Commander Guo and wiped the blood from his face before telling Fan Changyu, “I’ll go retrieve the vanguard flag. The soldiers behind can’t see the flag and don’t know which direction to charge.”

On the battlefield, the most dangerous thing was a disrupted formation that allowed the enemy to divide and consume smaller forces.

Fan Changyu kicked an attacker away and demanded, “Where’s the flag?”

Xie Five, with his excellent lightness skill, leaped forward several steps by stepping on the rebels’ heads and pointed Fan Changyu in a direction. She then advanced toward it like a sharp knife.

The commanders observing the battle from high ground watched with grave expressions as the vanguard’s wild goose formation was scattered, seemingly foreseeing defeat in this first engagement. Unexpectedly, from the right flank troops protecting the vanguard’s charge, a new spearhead emerged, penetrating like a bee’s sting with remarkable sharpness into the enemy’s main formation.

The commanders looked at each other in surprise. When this newly formed spearhead joined with the scattered remnants of the vanguard and raised the vanguard flag, pushing the rebels into steady retreat, their expressions grew increasingly strange.

One commander said, “I’ve heard of rear guards becoming vanguards, but this is the first time I’ve seen a right flank become a vanguard. To stabilize attack and defense without even changing formation must require the sharp instincts of a veteran general with comprehensive battlefield awareness.”

Another commander said, “This right flank was temporarily assembled by General Tang from recruits. General Tang truly has talented people under his command.”

Tang Peiyi responded with a forced smile, his eyes fixed on the battlefield below, trying to identify who was leading the charge. But the distance was too great—even as he strained his eyes nearly cross-eyed, he couldn’t make out who it was. He racked his brains but couldn’t recall having such a capable person among his subordinates.

Only He Jingyuan gazed at the battlefield below without saying a word.