Liang Qiang was no longer as inexperienced as when he first went into battle. Not only did he block the attack, but he also lay back on his horse and thrust his sword forward in a counterattack.

The Western Liang soldier was stabbed—though not fatally—and fell from his horse, getting trampled half to death by hooves.

But this didn’t mean that Liang Qiang was unstoppable. Just as he sat upright on his horse, another Western Liang soldier swung his blade down from behind.

This time, Liang Qiang didn’t have such good luck and could only instinctively swing his sword backward—

The sound of weapons clashing and a scream rang out simultaneously. Liang Qiang stopped his spinning blade and turned his horse around to see the Western Liang soldier already lying dead on the ground. He still had good luck after all, because two soldiers were guarding his left and right.

Was this because he was their squad leader?

Liang Qiang glanced at these two soldiers. Although he was the squad leader, he had just been promoted and had focused all his energy on combat training, so he wasn’t familiar with these two soldiers and couldn’t even call them by name.

On the battlefield now, the Western Liang soldiers had the advantage. Soldiers were constantly being killed by Western Liang troops or dying together with them. Liang Qiang only took one look before charging toward the Western Liang soldiers again. There was no time for reflection on the battlefield.

The soldiers who followed him, though brave, weren’t gods—just humans. Humans are flesh and blood, and soon one fell from his horse during the charge.

But Liang Qiang still hadn’t suffered any fatal injuries, because when these two soldiers fell, other soldiers rushed to his side.

One, two, three, four—one after another. Liang Qiang always had soldiers protecting him. Rather than saying they were there to kill the enemy, it would be more accurate to say they were there to assist Liang Qiang in his attacks.

Disregarding their own lives, not caring about formation, they only cared about Liang Qiang—blocking attacks for him, helping him kill enemies.

This strange and frenzied fighting continued until all the Western Liang soldiers were dead, leaving only five people surviving on the battlefield.

Liang Qiang was covered in wounds, his entire body soaked in blood, but he was one of those five survivors. He was still alive.

The ground trembled as reinforcements finally arrived like a cloud. Knowing the enemy was numerous, the commander had personally led troops to help. Upon seeing this scene, the commander shouted excitedly, “Brave warriors!”

He had originally expected to find only corpses, with the Western Liang forces having triumphed and departed.

Unexpectedly, these fifty vanguard soldiers had killed a hundred Western Liang troops, and some had even survived.

“Brave warriors!” the commander called out loudly. “State your names.”

The five men reported their names. Upon hearing Liang Qiang’s, the commander’s eyes lit up. “Liang Qiang, you’re the one who received commendation and was promoted to squad leader? Is your father the Liang Sima of the Left Wing Army who often devises brilliant strategies?”

Liang Qiang affirmed that he was.

The commander became even more pleased and looked Liang Qiang over with shining eyes. “Impressive, truly impressive! Liang Qiang, would you be willing to serve under my command? I’ll appoint you as a Military Marquis.”

Military Marquis—an officer commanding at least five hundred men.

Becoming a Military Marquis meant having a real official position.

“Liang Qiang, you are brave and skilled in battle. This general looks forward to you leading troops that, like you, will be unstoppable.”

He was brave and skilled in battle. This position of Military Marquis was earned by his effort. He wanted more military merits. He wanted to be unstoppable, to become famous. Liang Qiang looked at the blood on his body, feeling the pain of his wounds, and gripped his sword tightly. His gaze did not move downward, avoiding the corpses strewn across the ground.

He raised his head and called out loudly, “Liang Qiang will not disappoint your high expectations, sir!”

The commander laughed heartily and looked at the other four men. “All of you come under my command as well. Each of you will be rewarded.”

The other four men responded loudly in agreement.

…

…

Liang Qiang stood in the military camp, looking at the recovered bodies.

The bodies awaited collective cremation, after which the ashes and belongings would be sent back to their respective families.

Their faces were wrapped up, the features hidden. Each body was covered with a military coat and identification tag.

Liang Qiang looked at the tags one by one.

“Marquis Liang,” a soldier called from beside him. “You should go treat your wounds first.”

From cleaning up the battlefield to returning to camp, Liang Qiang hadn’t rested at all, let alone treated his wounds. He was still wearing his blood-soaked military uniform, continuously looking at his comrades’ bodies, causing other officers and soldiers to sigh.

“The battlefield is like this,” an officer specifically came over to comfort him. “Life and death in an instant. One moment you’re laughing together, the next you’re separated by life and death.”

“Don’t be sad. They died fighting for the country and the people—a worthy death,” a soldier said. “Being a soldier means preparing for this day. We’ve all been ready. Unafraid of death, we’d be content even in death.”

Liang Qiang thanked them. He naturally understood these principles, but what they didn’t know was that many of these soldiers had died for him.

He should have been the one lying there.

No, he should have died long ago in his first battle. If not for those soldiers protecting him, he wouldn’t have survived, let alone received any commendation.

At first, he thought it was normal comradely assistance.

But it happened once, twice, three times—every time he went into battle, he was protected.

Were these people exceptionally close to him? Not at all. Due to his sensitive identity, he didn’t socialize much in the army. His relationships were all ordinary, with no life-or-death bonds.

Was it because he was a squad leader that soldiers voluntarily surrounded and protected him? Not at all. A squad leader, a minor officer who organized formations, wasn’t considered a commanding officer and was not much different from regular soldiers. His death wouldn’t impact the battle formation, and soldiers wouldn’t need to protect him to gain an advantage.

Many soldiers had died protecting him, and some had survived. When he later thanked them and asked why they had protected him, those soldiers were cold, saying they were just killing enemies and not acknowledging any special protection.

Even if he were a fool, he would know something was off—and he was certainly no fool.

His enlistment had been arranged by someone. Could his protection on the battlefield also be arranged by that person?

He had heard from his father that, back then, he had only spoken up for that small official from the northwest because he looked pathetic waiting outside the door, asking the doorman to let him in—nothing more. It wasn’t as if he had saved that surname Cai and his family of seven or eight!

Even if that one favor was worth such repayment, how could this man named Cai have the power to make so many soldiers—different soldiers, no matter where he went, even in temporary squads before battle—guard him and help him fight?

What kind of person could achieve such a thing?

Even General of the Guards Chu Li couldn’t do it!

Liang Qiang wanted to ask his father to tell him about this and see if he knew what was happening, but—

That would mean his father would know he wasn’t truly brave and skilled in battle, that he hadn’t earned his commendations himself.

This wouldn’t matter much, as his father was family, and it wouldn’t be shameful for him to know.

But he feared his father would be cautious and stop this from continuing, and then—

He couldn’t guarantee that the next time he went into battle, he would be so glorious, or if he would simply die.

“Marquis Liang!”

A shout from the side interrupted Liang Qiang’s thoughts. He turned to see several officers waving at him.

“The heads of the Western Liang bandits have been loaded onto carts. The commander said you should personally escort them to the General’s camp to report your merit,” they said loudly.

Reporting merit to the General’s camp! Liang Qiang clenched his fist.

“Marquis Liang, you should go quickly,” the surrounding soldiers urged. “Wrap your wounds and go show the people at the General’s camp our bravery!”

His bravery was to be displayed to the world. He couldn’t lose all this. Besides, it wasn’t that he wasn’t brave—he did go into battle and kill enemies.

All of this was what he deserved.

Liang Qiang clasped his hands to them in a salute. “Help me send off our brothers. I’ll go show the world the victory we’ve earned with our lives.”

The soldiers cheered in unison.

Amidst the soldiers’ shouts and the officers’ respectful gazes, the blood-stained Liang Qiang, gripping his sword, strode away with large steps.

…

…

Night enveloped the land, and the streets of the capital glittered like the Milky Way.

However, at this time, the busiest markets were empty of people, with troops of soldiers galloping to clear the streets.

Armored soldiers slowly approached, surrounding a man on a tall horse.

Deng Yi wore a red robe wrapped in a black cloak. He didn’t admire the streets specially cleared for him, his thin eyes lowered, seemingly dozing or deep in thought.

Two officials accompanied him, looking with satisfaction at the empty streets. In the past, when the imperial relatives Yang and Zhao families were at their most powerful, they at most use household servants to drive away the common people to make way, but they couldn’t completely clear the streets.

As long as one held great power, what the imperial relatives couldn’t do, important officials could achieve.

Speaking of imperial relatives—

“Sir,” an official said in a low voice, “the Xie family’s arrogance still needs to be suppressed.”

“Indeed,” the other official nodded. “We can’t nurture another Yang or Zhao family.”

The downcast Deng Yi smiled. “I would prefer to foster another Yang or Zhao family. The previous chaos among the princes, and now the young Emperor, the Western Liang invasion—tracing back, all were caused by the disasters brought by imperial relatives. Now the people hate imperial relatives the most. If the Xie family oversteps, even with their century of good reputation, the world won’t tolerate them.”

The two officials exchanged a glance and laughed. “Correct, that’s exactly right.”

“Xie Yanfang is cunning and acts methodically, excelling at gaining a good reputation. Now that he’s the Emperor’s uncle, many people place their hopes for the country on him, making his reputation even greater.”

“But the Xie family isn’t just Xie Yanfang. To name one, his brother Xie Yanlai has quite the arrogant and domineering attitude like the Yang and Zhao families.”

“This Xie Yanlai can even bewitch the Emperor.”

Xie Yanlai? Deng Yi thought to himself. He’s not bewitching the Emperor, but the Empress. Others might not know or care, but he was clear. He had known that girl from early on, and she had known Xie Yanlai even earlier.

He could be certain that Chu Zhao didn’t trust Xie Yanfang, but he was confident that she treated Xie Yanlai differently.

Why was that? Did she want to support another imperial uncle? To cause internal strife within the Xie family—

As he pondered, the sound of firecrackers erupted, particularly jarring in the quiet street.

The two officials were startled, and Deng Yi opened his eyes.

Soldiers had already gone to investigate and quickly returned.

“Sir, it’s some children playing with firecrackers in an alley,” they reported.

The officials were annoyed. “Firecrackers can hurt people. How can they be so careless—”

Deng Yi smiled. “I, Deng Yi, am not so hated by the people that even firecrackers must be forbidden. Besides—” he raised his hand to calculate, “the New Year is approaching.”

Indeed, the New Year was coming soon. The officials were stunned, then shook their heads with embarrassed smiles. “We’ve been so busy we’ve forgotten.”

“This year has been tumultuous for Great Xia. The days have passed in confusion,” Deng Yi said.

The two officials sighed. “During the New Year, His Majesty will pray to Heaven for blessings, and all misfortunes will pass.”

Deng Yi looked toward the cold night sky. Would they? Perhaps they would, but for now, they still had to overcome a crisis.

“How is the situation with General Chu?” he turned to ask.

The two officials’ expressions darkened, and they shook their heads. “Not good.”

…

…

Night enveloped the land, and the Prince of Zhongshan’s mansion was shrouded in darkness, but the Prince’s bedchamber was brightly lit.

The Prince of Zhongshan always slept with the lights on, so that not even the shadow of an insect could hide in the room.

Now, hurried footsteps approached, causing shadows to dance erratically on the ground.

“Chu Li is dying?” the Prince of Zhongshan sat up in his bed.

Xiao Xun and Ning Kun nodded.

“The latest news is that Chu Li has been unconscious for many days,” Ning Kun said.

Xiao Xun said softly, “He won’t wake again.”

The Prince’s expression turned melancholic. “A pity. Such a hero wasted half his life and ultimately could not be used by me.” He then looked at Ning Kun. “Has the news been sent to the Western Liang people?”

Ning Kun affirmed: “The King of Western Liang has already set out.”

War had been ongoing between Western Liang and Great Xia for some time, but it had always been somewhat lukewarm. Great Xia reported frequent victories, making people think Western Liang was merely posturing. In reality, the true royal army of Western Liang had been waiting—waiting for an opportunity to strike a fatal blow.

This opportunity was Chu Li’s death.

Xiao Xun said, “Father, let me lead troops to Yunzhong Commandery.”

It was time for them to turn the tide.

The Prince of Zhongshan smiled and shook his head. “No need. I believe that even in death, General Chu Li can still fight the King of Western Liang. What you need to do is—”

He stood up and pointed his cane toward the thick darkness outside the door.

“Lead troops to the capital to protect the Emperor.”

…

…

As dawn was about to break, Chu Zhao sat up in her bed. Hearing her movement, A-Le from the outer room also rose and entered with a basin of water.

The mistress and servant, without needing many words, began skillfully wiping down Chu Li.

“Father’s beard needs to be trimmed,” Chu Zhao said, examining her father’s sleeping face.

A-Le nodded. “The General looks better without a beard. I’ll go call Uncle Zhong.”

After wiping him down, they needed to feed him with a crane-beak pot—essentially, a ginseng soup.

However, less and less could be fed to him. Chu Zhao looked at the half bowl remaining in her hand and sighed slightly. Urgent footsteps sounded outside the door.

“Uncle Zhong, you’re here,” Chu Zhao said, turning around. “I’ll wipe my father’s face, and then you can give him—”

“A-Zhao,” Zhong Changrong interrupted her, his expression grave. “The King of Western Liang’s royal army has arrived.”

Chu Zhao responded with an “Oh” and smiled. “It seems the King of Western Liang understands my father’s condition and knows the time has come.”

“The General’s condition has been kept secret. I don’t know how—” Zhong Changrong said hatefully.

Chu Zhao shook her head. “There’s no wall that doesn’t let wind through.”

At this point, there was no need to investigate spies further.

Chu Zhao stood up.

“If the royal army is personally led by the King of Western Liang, then I will stand in for my father to command our forces and meet them in battle.”

With the commander absent during a major battle, morale would inevitably be shaken. Her, a daughter, replacing her father to lead the army into battle was somewhat lacking, but fortunately, she was not merely Chu Li’s daughter now—she was also the Empress.

The Empress of Great Xia.

If the King of Western Liang personally led troops to invade, the Empress of Great Xia would personally lead troops to meet him in battle.

“A-Le,” Chu Zhao said, “bring me my Empress court dress.”

A-Le loudly complied.

When they had left the Imperial City, Chu Zhao had instructed her to bring the court dress, but throughout their journey, whether encountering bandits or officials, Chu Zhao had never worn it. Now, to meet foreign enemies, she could wear it.

“Zhong Changrong,” Chu Zhao said.

This was the first time she had called him by his full name. In an instant, the person before her was no longer the little girl Zhong Changrong was familiar with. Even without the Empress court dress, she already carried an imposing, dignified air.

“Arrange the Empress’s procession. We march to battle.”

Zhong Changrong knelt on one knee, clasped his fist, and called out loudly, “Your subject obeys the command!”