With one arm wrapped, Deng Yi walked up the city wall and looked down at the front, seeing a red-robed figure before the sky-covering military formation.

“Grand Tutor, Grand Tutor, you must emphasize—the Second Young Master absolutely cannot go to the capital as hostage,” Ning Kun followed behind Deng Yi, instructing again. “We can be stripped of our title, we can hand over troops, but the Second Young Master cannot leave Zhongshan Commandery. Otherwise—”

After Xiao Xun’s death, though the Second Young Master continued to lead troops, morale plummeted. By now, everyone in Prince Zhongshan’s residence had lost their will to fight. When the Empress’s troops closed in, they had sent ahead a confession of guilt.

Deng Yi asked, “Otherwise what?”

Ning Kun’s expression hardened: “We’ll perish together with the commandery city!”

Deng Yi glanced at him without speaking.

Ning Kun’s face darkened again, and he said with a bitter smile, “This is also for your sake, my lord. With both the Prince and Young Master gone, no matter what, the Princess Consort and young masters are imperial relatives—their crimes don’t warrant death. The one the court will absolutely not spare is you, my lord.”

Deng Yi said, “I’m not afraid of death.”

“Of course I know you’re not afraid, my lord,” Ning Kun said sincerely. “I’m not afraid either, but we can still fight. If we don’t have to die, why not live?”

He grabbed Deng Yi’s arm.

“After doing so much, to end with nothing—how can we be resigned to that?”

Deng Yi didn’t speak, looking ahead. At this moment, that red-robed figure had arrived before the city gate.

Two squadrons of shield-bearing armored soldiers protected the front, with five full rows of crossbowmen following closely behind.

Compared to when the imperial prince had rashly charged into the Imperial City, these troops and generals were truly elite—unhurried, unflappable, with imposing authority.

“Deng Yi,” Chu Zhao called loudly from below the city gate.

Though it was daytime and the commandery city gate was tall, one could still see the woman’s face clearly below. Having not seen her for nearly a year, she seemed somewhat unfamiliar.

And compared to four years ago, she was even more different.

She was no longer merely Chu Ling’s daughter, but Da Xia’s Empress.

Deng Yi said flatly, “Empress, long time no see.”

“Deng Yi,” Chu Zhao had no intention of reminiscing about the past and shouted, “Open the city gate immediately!”

Ning Kun beside him couldn’t help tugging at Deng Yi’s sleeve to remind him.

Deng Yi ignored him, looking at the gate below, and said, “Miss Chu, I no longer owe you a meal now, do I?”

A meal? Ning Kun was confused. What was this about? Or was this reminiscing about the past to negotiate conditions?

Chu Zhao looked at Deng Yi on the city wall and said, “So what? You won’t open the city gate?”

Deng Yi lowered his eyes: “I won’t.”

Wouldn’t directly saying no be somewhat provocative? Should be a bit more moderate, Ning Kun thought. Was this to force the Empress to negotiate conditions first?

“Grand Tutor, why not—” he couldn’t help saying quietly beside him.

Just as the words left his mouth, he heard Chu Zhao below the gate shout, “Xiao Man.”

Accompanying this voice, a female guard standing beside her raised the crossbow in her hands. The words in Ning Kun’s mouth continued slowly as from the corner of his eye he watched the arrow slowly fly over—

“—directly—” Ning Kun heard his own voice slow down.

With a thud, it exploded by his ear.

Deng Yi beside him fell backward. Ning Kun’s vision only caught the trembling arrow shaft embedded in Deng Yi’s chest.

Ning Kun’s remaining words turned into a cry.

At the same time, louder shouts came from below the city gate.

“Refusing to open the city gate—kill without mercy—” Chu Zhao shouted, raising her hand and waving. “Attack the city—”

With her command, the shield-bearing soldiers instantly formed a circular formation, protecting Chu Zhao and the archers. The archers fired their bows and crossbows together, arrows flying like rain toward the city wall.

The soldiers on the wall were caught off guard, hit by arrows, defending in panic, returning fire, falling into chaos.

The military formation waiting in the distance also beat war drums. Battle cries shook the sky as they surged toward the commandery city.

“Open the city gate and we won’t kill—”

“Surrender your weapons and we won’t kill—”

…

…

In the seventh month of the fourth year of Xingping, Prince Zhongshan’s Princess Consort, carrying her children, knelt on the ground to respectfully welcome the Empress.

The Empress publicly denounced Prince Zhongshan and Young Master Xiao Xun on the spot, demoted everyone in Prince Zhongshan’s residence to commoner status, and exiled them to garrison the borders.

The rebellion of Prince Zhongshan that had lasted nearly a year had ended.

Messengers rushed in all directions to spread the news.

The court’s grand army couldn’t rest either, continuing to pursue fleeing remnants and reorganize cities that had surrendered or were still stubbornly resisting.

The officials stationed in the commandery city also had complex affairs—determining rewards and punishments, comforting the people, repairing the damaged city.

But the Empress, who had always charged at the front, had disappeared from sight.

…

…

An autumn rain made the commandery city much quieter.

A’Le held the umbrella high, protecting Chu Zhao as she entered a residence. From the gate alone, one could imagine how magnificent and splendid this mansion had been.

But now the building directly ahead was collapsed in ruins, almost completely burned, showing not half a trace of its original appearance.

A squadron of guards was strenuously digging through it. Not satisfied with clearing the ruins, they were digging three feet into the ground.

“What we discussed at the time was burning down the building—this way we could signal those on watch outside,” a soldier stood beside Chu Zhao, his voice nasal. “And, Young Master said, this way, it would also facilitate escape.”

A’Le stared at the ruins and shouted, “Burned like this, how could anyone escape!”

Before the soldier could answer, Chu Zhao, who had been silent, spoke: “Probably planning to blend into the chaos when they were putting out the fire.”

“That was one method, but very difficult to execute,” the soldier said quietly. “Because this was inside the residence, guards would certainly have surrounded it completely.”

Some people would be busy fighting the fire, but many would certainly be standing guard.

Chu Zhao fell silent.

“The best method would be to hide right in the fire,” the soldier continued. “We infiltrated the residence several times. First we arranged for combustibles in the hall, while hiding a layer of fireproof cloth in the screen. We pried up the floorboards by the window and dug a passage leading outside the building, hiding a corpse in the passage beforehand—”

Hearing this, A’Le’s eyebrows danced: “I know! So Xie Yanlai could wrap himself in the fireproof screen when the fire started, pull out the hidden corpse to pose as himself, then crawl out through the passage. That way no one could discover him.”

She happily stamped her feet as she spoke, staring at the soldier and asking urgently:

“He escaped, didn’t he? He escaped, didn’t he?”

The soldier also wanted to ask for this answer. His face was deathly pale as he said, “The Grand Tutor’s residence was full of guards. Young Master said he would wait in the passage… Because Xiao Xun was inside, the fire should be extinguished quickly. Then when they discovered the body, they would disperse. When that time came, then…”

The smile on A’Le’s face faded.

“Should,” “then,” “when”—these three words constructed not hope, but fantasy.

“Do you know how hot the ground gets when a fire is burning?” she murmured. “How could you think this was the best method?”

The soldier’s body trembled as he collapsed to his knees, covering his face with both hands and sobbing: “Because Young Master never planned to survive.”

Therefore, any method that could be attempted was a good method.

A’Le only felt her throat burn painfully.

“Your Highness, we found it,” the soldiers over there suddenly called.

Before A’Le could react, Chu Zhao had already rushed over. A’Le hurriedly followed with the umbrella. Chu Zhao ran very fast—neither rain nor the chaotic ground could slow her down.

Before them appeared a pit with obvious signs of human excavation, winding from beneath the ruins all the way to below a large tree.

This was some distance from the building. Even so, half the large tree had been killed by smoke.

Wooden boards for support were scattered in the pit, even tree roots, but no body.

Chu Zhao’s steps weakened. A’Le quickly supported her.

“He crawled out?” A’Le said in a trembling voice. “Right? He really crawled out?”

No one could answer her.

Because it had already been a month since Xie Yanlai had hidden here.

“…Perhaps he was dug out at the time.”

“If he crawled out, where could he hide? They must have searched the entire city for assassins.”

“There’s another question—was General Xie injured? Ten people entered together, all died, so it was clearly dangerous…”

“Go ask the officials and generals of the commandery city and prince’s residence how many assassins were caught, dead or alive.”

“Maybe they don’t even remember themselves…”

The soldiers’ voices continued. Chu Zhao knelt on the ground, letting muddy water soak through her dress, motionless and wordless, only staring at the pit.

This pit wasn’t large, only big enough for one person, lying down, shifting position.

At that time, was he hot inside?

Was it hard to breathe?

How long did he lie inside?

“Miss,” A’Le said, holding the umbrella with one hand and embracing her with the other, tears in her eyes. “If we haven’t seen a body, he’s still alive. Let’s quickly search the entire city. A’Jiu must be waiting for you to rescue him.”

Chu Zhao nodded: “Yes.” She looked around again. “Search. Search here, search the whole city, every place—search everywhere.”

The soldiers acknowledged and hurried away.

A’Le helped Chu Zhao up: “Miss, get up. Let’s go back first.”

But Chu Zhao shook her head: “My legs are a bit numb. Let me sit here a while to recover.”

What numb legs? Even with numb legs, one shouldn’t sit on muddy ground to recover. A’Le held back tears. Miss just didn’t want to leave, just wanted to guard this pit.

“Then, Miss, let’s go over to the eaves to recover, alright?” she coaxed carefully.

Chu Zhao didn’t speak or move. Just then, another soldier hurried over.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “Deng Yi has awakened. He says he has something to ask Your Majesty.”

Deng Yi.

Chu Zhao’s unfocused gaze sharpened. Supporting herself on A’Le, she stood up.

…

…

In the commandery city’s prison, the soldiers and physicians withdrew. Deng Yi, lying on wooden planks, saw a figure sway. The woman’s form appeared in his sight.

The prison’s darkness made her features blurry.

Deng Yi slightly raised his hand, touching his upper chest where thick bandages were wrapped.

“Empress, you deliberately made the arrow miss by an inch,” he said hoarsely. “Sparing my life?”

Chu Zhao didn’t answer his question, but asked, “Where is the imperial seal?”

Deng Yi’s body had already been searched. There was no seal, nor was it in the commandery city or with Prince Zhongshan.

Deng Yi said, “You know that if I die, no one can obtain the seal. Your Majesty truly understands my character.”

“I have no interest in guessing your thoughts. What kind of person you are, I don’t care,” Chu Zhao said flatly. “Do I need the seal now? Without the seal, I can still take your lives.”

Deng Yi didn’t dwell on this topic anymore and suddenly said, “My mother is still alive, isn’t she?”

Chu Zhao said, “Her fate is unfortunate. Having a son like you is already unlucky enough. She can’t stake her life for you as well.”

Deng Yi said, “One life for another.”

What did he mean? Chu Zhao didn’t speak.

Deng Yi looked at her: “My mother’s life, for Xie Yanlai’s life.”