In Western Liang territory during October, fierce winds had begun to howl, rolling dust and sand across the yellowed grasslands, slowing the progress of travelers.

This group of travelers numbered several dozen, including the elderly, the young, women, and children. They drove carts piled high with belongings—tents and other household items. The elderly and women holding children sat atop the swaying carts.

The children were not playing as they usually would, and the elderly wore somber expressions.

“The wind is too strong. Let’s find a place to stop here,” someone in the group called out.

With these words, many cheered in agreement, but some voiced doubts.

“Let’s go a bit further.”

“This place isn’t very safe.”

Those who objected were immediately surrounded by others: “We’ve come far enough to be safe.” “If we go further, there won’t be any pasture.” “Are we supposed to go deep into the desert?”

An argument broke out among the traveling group, but the next moment, howling winds brought dust clouds mixed with the sounds of horse hooves and shouts—shouts in a dialect different from theirs—

“Bandits from Great Xia!”

“They’ve come again!”

“They’ve chased us all the way here!”

The previously quarreling group instantly became terrified. People and horses alike quickened their pace, not daring to stop for even a moment.

The elderly clutched the children tightly as they sat on the swaying carts, looking back at the rising dust and the increasingly distant grasslands, tears streaming down their faces.

“Our King has been defeated, bandits from Great Xia roam the grasslands, we are displaced, we are wandering without home.” They chanted softly as they fled from the grasslands into the barren desert—

The rolling dust clouds did not pursue them into the desert but stopped at its edge. As the dust settled, it revealed dozens of figures wrapped in scarves, watching with some regret as the group fled into the desert.

“That tribe has quite a few people and looks wealthy too.”

“Letting them go violates our mountain bandit principles.”

“Huh? What principles do we mountain bandits have?”

“Bandits never leave empty-handed.”

Listening to everyone’s discussion, Mu Mian Hong didn’t stop them but said: “Mountain bandits have another principle.”

Everyone looked toward her.

Wrapped in scarves with only her eyes visible, Mu Mian Hong smiled slightly: “We don’t completely slaughter fat sheep.”

Everyone laughed. “The boss is right.” “Let’s fatten up these Western Liang sheep even more.” “This way we can shear them time and again.” With these shouts and a wave of Mu Mian Hong’s hand, they scattered to patrol the open wilderness.

The smile in Mu Mian Hong’s eyes also faded, replaced by sorrow.

“Is something wrong?” The man beside her noticed and asked cautiously, looking around—after all, they were in Western Liang territory. Although the King of Western Liang was defeated, even a lean camel is bigger than a horse—

Mu Mian Hong shook her head, surveying the surroundings as a smile reappeared in her eyes: “General Chu’s wish was to roam freely in Western Liang territory.”

Unexpectedly, today she had fulfilled his wish.

The next moment, something occurred to Mu Mian Hong, and her eyes brightened.

“I should dig up General Chu’s ashes and bring him here.”

The men, who had been somewhat moved by Mu Mian Hong’s words, were suddenly startled: “Boss, if you did that, Zhong Changrong would fight us to the death.”

Mu Mian Hong smiled: “Am I afraid of him?”

Indeed, the boss wasn’t afraid of Zhong Changrong, and for Chu Wei, she really might do something crazy. The men’s minds raced, trying to dissuade Mu Mian Hong from this idea.

“That would make Miss Zhao unhappy.” “General Chu has already become a spirit; he’s probably already roaming—no, inspecting Western Liang territory.” “Yes, boss, your earlier raid on the Western Liang court was also something General Chu always wanted to do. Perhaps he was with you then.”

The smile in Mu Mian Hong’s eyes rippled like water as she nodded: “You’re right.”

She looked around again, her gaze still filled with melancholy, but she didn’t mention grave-digging again. The men sighed in relief and were about to change the subject when riders galloped up from behind.

“Boss,” they called, “a letter from General Zhong.”

Mu Mian Hong took the letter, opened it, and read. The smile in her eyes deepened, followed by a soft sigh: “Zhao is working too hard.”

“Should we split our forces to aid Miss Zhao?” the men beside her asked.

Mu Mian Hong glanced at the letter and shook her head: “Not necessary for now. We’re still in Western Liang territory. We need to make the Western Liang people migrate even further away, so they won’t dare approach this area again.”

The men acknowledged.

“Also,” the messenger added, “while we were patrolling, we caught a merchant, a merchant from Great Xia.”

Mu Mian Hong looked over and asked: “How did a Great Xia merchant appear in Western Liang territory?”

“He said he was captured and brought to Western Liang. Now that Western Liang has been defeated, he’s taking the opportunity to escape back.” The messenger continued, “But we found his behavior very suspicious, so we were about to tie him up—”

They were mountain bandits, not Great Xia soldiers protecting the country and its people. If they could rob Western Liang merchants, they could rob Great Xia merchants too—that was more fitting for their identity—

“But unexpectedly, he suddenly took his own life,” the messenger said.

As he spoke, a horse approached carrying a corpse—a plump man dressed as a merchant.

Not fleeing, not pleading, but suicide? Mu Mian Hong’s gaze sharpened. Using death to conceal secrets.

“Send him to Zhong Changrong,” she said. “Let him investigate this merchant’s background.”

Watching the mountain bandits responsible for delivering messages ride away with the corpse, Mu Mian Hong’s brow didn’t relax but instead grew more furrowed as she looked behind her.

The peace negotiations were over, the King of Western Liang had departed with his troops, and various tribal groups were also relocating. Surely nothing else would happen?

……

……

Dust was also rising on the grasslands near the border, filled with the sounds of battle.

Standing at the foot of a hillside, Zhong Changrong felt as if he had returned to the time of war with Western Liang.

But the war was supposed to be over.

“General, there are more troops than expected,” a personal guard hurried over and said in a low voice. “The King’s troops.”

“General, the King of Western Liang has indeed gone back on his word!” another guard said angrily.

“He’s not just launching a surprise attack,” one soldier said calmly. “They’ve also planted spies among us.”

That’s why when Zhong Changrong decided to patrol the new border with just a small force, they encountered an ambush.

This location—Zhong Changrong himself hadn’t known he would come here before setting out.

This ambush was steady and precise, as if an eye had been placed right behind them.

A soldier could no longer contain his anger: “Do these Western Liang bandits think they can enter Great Xia like this?” He raised his long sword with his uninjured hand. “They’re truly dreaming!”

The surrounding soldiers also let out mocking laughs.

Zhong Changrong, who had been silent until now, suddenly smiled when he heard this.

“Perhaps they don’t want to enter Great Xia,” he said, his eyes darker than the night. “They just want to kill me.”

……

……

A man lay flat on horseback, almost becoming one with his horse. Because of the arrows in his back, the scout’s consciousness was already blurry, and he could no longer guide his mount.

But this wasn’t a problem. After breaking through the encirclement, the experienced horse would know the way and take him to the nearest garrison.

Great Xia troops had already occupied the newly reclaimed territory, with strict sentries posted.

If he could just cross one more hill—

But when he crested the hill, he was met with a rain of arrows. The horse neighed and fell. The rider, without making a sound, tumbled to the ground. In his still-open eyes was reflected the image of more than a dozen soldiers standing in formation on the hillside.

Great Xia soldiers.

……

……

Liang Qian closed his eyes briefly.

“Am I again being asked to let wolves into our home?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “I truly don’t know anymore if the people behind you are really from Great Xia.”

Time and again, they harmed the Great Xia.

But they didn’t seem to be Western Liang people either, because Western Liang hadn’t benefited either.

Perhaps he should ask: was the person behind all this even human?

He seemed to casually pluck at harp strings, completely unconcerned about how many people died with each note.

The soldier smiled: “Battalion Commander Liang, this time it’s for you, to let you turn the tide and restore your glory.”

Liang Qian looked at him woodenly: “When do I go to turn the tide?”

The soldier said, “After Zhong Changrong is dead.”