The carriage raced through the dark night. Unable to see the road clearly, the journey became even more bumpy.

Chu Tang sat inside the carriage, her mother’s sobbing in her ears.

“A-Tang, where are they taking us? To the academy where your brothers are?” Jiang Shi asked. “Isn’t it worse to go out now? Didn’t they say fighting has broken out outside? Wouldn’t it be safer to continue hiding at the Zhou family’s place?”

Chu Tang thought to herself that it wasn’t just worse now—they were going to an even worse place.

She pressed her hand against her chest to keep her heart from jumping out with the jolting, thinking of the message Little Rabbit had delivered. She’d been awakened in the middle of the night. After hearing Little Rabbit’s words, she’d slapped herself to confirm she wasn’t dreaming.

“Has she gone mad?” She’d asked. “This is courting death. How can I possibly do it? I’m just a weak woman!”

Little Rabbit had grinned: “Sister A-Zhao says you can do it, so you can.” She’d pulled her along urgently. “Quick, let’s go, let’s go.”

What could she do if she didn’t go? Whether to go or not, where to go—it wasn’t up to her. It was up to the old, weak, women, children, and loyal servants around her.

Chu Tang had always been someone who went with the flow. Though her heart was shocked and screaming wildly, she still obediently packed immediately and used words to comfort her parents.

However, once in the carriage, thinking of what she had to do next, Chu Tang stopped hiding things from her parents.

“The court and Prince Zhongshan have started fighting. The court has offered a reward for our capture.”

“It’s not because of Chu Zhao and Uncle’s troubles, but because of what Father did back then—it’s been exposed.”

Jiang Shi stood stunned. Chu Lan, who had been playing confused all along, could no longer keep up the act. He wailed: “I was forced! And I didn’t do anything—”

So wronged.

Jiang Shi, both panicked and confused, pressed for answers. Only then did she learn what had happened back then, nearly fainting: “Heavens, our fate is sealed.”

Only now did she understand why after Chu Zhao became Empress, she never mentioned them or even saw them. It turned out they’d been confined at home for over half a year—it wasn’t keeping a low profile at all.

Speaking of this, she felt resentful.

“She alone escaped to the border army. Why didn’t she take us with her, leaving us in the capital to die?”

Chu Tang covered her mother’s mouth, preventing her from saying anything more. The servants outside were all quite formidable.

“We don’t count on her either.” She said decisively. “My friends are helping me. I’m taking you to a safe place.”

Jiang Shi hugged her daughter: “A-Tang, you’ve suffered, making you worry and work so hard with us.”

Chu Tang embraced her mother, looking at Chu Lan: “What your daughter does isn’t hard work. What comes next will depend on Father.”

Depend on Father?

Both Jiang Shi and Chu Lan were stunned.

“A-Tang, your father has survived by pretending to be crazy, playing dumb, and feigning confusion.” Chu Lan covered his face and sobbed. “What can you depend on? Your father was truly harmed terribly by your uncle and Prince Zhongshan’s heir.”

No one in the family knew what Chu Ling had done, and he wasn’t in the capital, which led to him, the elder brother, being targeted by Prince Zhongshan’s heir and coerced. He clearly hadn’t done anything—it was truly an unwarranted disaster.

“No, Father. Precisely because you were harmed so terribly, you should seek justice.” Chu Tang said.

Chu Lan looked at her: “Who would I seek justice from?”

Chu Tang moved closer and grabbed his arm. In the dim carriage, her eyes shone brightly: “Of course, from Prince Zhongshan’s heir, Xiao Xun.”

Chu Lan was shocked: “A-Tang, how is this seeking justice? You’re asking your father to court death!”

…

…

Dawn light spilled from the horizon. On the early spring earth, no green grass flourished—the turf was trampled to pieces everywhere. Fleeing citizens ran about, old and young, men and women. Adults shouted, children cried, carriages and horses collided in chaos.

Behind them were ranks of cavalry, like dark clouds, gradually swallowing the morning light.

Before the fleeing civilians, another army appeared, standing motionless, dense as a forest.

Seeing these troops, the civilians ran toward them desperately as if seeing saviors—

“No one may advance without orders—retreat quickly—” The black wall ahead shouted in unison. “Otherwise, death without mercy—”

Retreat? Where to retreat? Shouts came in waves, each more urgent than the last. The civilians looked back.

Behind them also came unified shouts: “Prince Zhongshan protects the court, advancing to the capital for an audience—those blocking the way, quickly move aside—quickly move aside—”

Move aside? Where to move? Horse hooves rolled like waves, opening wide mouths to devour people.

Xiao Xun rode amid the rolling waves, wearing his heir’s ceremonial robes, pure white as jade. He raised his hand and waved it gently. He said: “Kill.”

With this command, soldiers raised their shields and armor, spears thrust forward, cold light flashing.

Before them, the black wall responded to a horn blast with shields and armor standing in unison. Half-kneeling crossbowmen released ten thousand arrows together.

In an instant, blade light and arrow rain devoured heaven and earth, everything blood red.

…

…

The February spring wind struck the face like knives.

The scent in one’s nostrils also seemed like knives.

Iron rust.

Blood.

Chu Zhao didn’t wrap a scarf around herself to block the cold wind and bloody smell. She even reined in her horse, looking at the corpses lying by the roadside. These were two elderly people, bundles scattered around them, the bloodstains beneath them already dried.

“Perhaps they were robbed—not killed by troops.” Ding Dachui couldn’t help saying.

The bundles had obviously been searched through, the two old people’s bodies had been rifled through, and the shoes on their feet were gone. Their socks were clean—not as if they’d lost their shoes while running, but as if someone had removed them afterward.

“It’s still because of the troops.” Chu Zhao said. If not for the troops and warfare, why would the elderly be carrying bundles away from home, meeting disaster on the road?

Chu Zhao looked around. Ahead, a village was faintly visible, but there was no cooking smoke, no sounds of chickens or dogs. In the fields, no villagers could be seen working.

Scouts rushed from ahead: “The village has no—living people.”

That meant there were dead people. Chu Zhao gripped the reins tightly. Though the border battlefield had all kinds of tragic scenes, because the border commandery prepared for war, at a single command implementing scorched earth tactics, civilians were evacuated and sheltered in time. Unless a city fell, there wouldn’t be mass civilian casualties.

Now inland, the prince and court had suddenly gone to war. The civilians were caught unprepared and had no way to prepare—both sides were Da Xia’s official troops.

When two armies met and fought, it could destroy an entire village.

In a city, when soldiers suddenly split into opposing camps and fought, it could instantly destroy half the city.

“Advance quickly.” Chu Zhao ordered. She couldn’t bury these villagers. She had to stop more killing.

She galloped forward. Ding Dachui led troops to follow closely, holding high the Empress’s phoenix banner. Now they were a very large force—ahead, scouts and vanguard rode back and forth, behind, cavalry and infantry formed ranks.

After half a day’s march, troops galloped from ahead, led by a young woman.

“Xiao Man is here.” A’Le said happily, even spurring her horse forward to greet her.

But Xiao Man turned her head away, ignoring her, and came straight to Chu Zhao, saying: “We’ve surrounded Zhongshan Commandery. Zhongshan Commandery’s troops are about equal to ours.”

Old Bai followed closely: “Attacking the commandery city, we have a fifty-fifty chance.”

Even if they couldn’t take the city, they should be able to make Prince Zhongshan mobilize troops for relief, which would also relieve the siege on the capital’s side.

Chu Zhao shook her head: “A fifty-fifty chance isn’t enough to shake Prince Zhongshan.”

Then what to do? Old Bai was about to say they should mobilize more troops, but Chu Zhao had already passed them, calling out loudly: “I’ll go to the front lines.”

Would the Empress personally attacking the city be worth ten people?

Xiao Man pursed her lips and followed.

…

…

Inside Zhongshan Commandery’s city, troops continuously raced through the streets, shouting loudly that court troops were besieging the city, ordering civilians to bar their doors.

The civilians hiding in their homes were anxious and helpless. They no longer cared about who was fighting whom, who was right or wrong—if fighting broke out, they would be the ones to suffer.

A war that had once been distant had suddenly occurred right beside them.

Of course, there were clever people who sighed: “Precisely because the war was distant, today has come. Prince Zhongshan has been waiting for the day to return to the capital since he first came here.”

Finally, the opportunity had arrived—the Late Emperor passed away, Xi Liang invaded, troubles internal and external. Who could stop him from killing his way back to the capital?

Prince Zhongshan’s leg was lame, but his heart wasn’t.

But some complained: “It’s also the Late Emperor’s fault. How could he let a child inherit the throne? Prince Zhongshan should have been Emperor. Prince Zhongshan is the Late Emperor’s blood brother—by qualification and age, he’s most suitable.”

If it had been this way earlier, there would be no need to fight now.

Some even said Xi Liang King wouldn’t have attacked either. With someone like Prince Zhongshan as Emperor, the dynasty would be stable—how would Xi Liang King dare attack?

But now, no matter what was said, war was unavoidable. With the city under siege and defense, they couldn’t avoid being affected.

The atmosphere in the city, the civilians’ discussions—Prince Zhongshan paid no attention to any of it.

Since war had started, everything could be appeased after the war ended. Once he became Emperor, whatever he said would be what mattered, and whatever he did, civilians would be grateful.

As for the court troops besieging the city with the Empress personally at the front lines, he didn’t care about that either. He even joked with the officials and generals around him: “To battle with the Empress—A-Xun in the capital must be so envious.”

The officials and generals were all confidants who knew about Xiao Xun’s past involvement with the Chu woman. Some laughed, others sneered coldly: “That Chu woman truly went to great lengths to become Empress. This time, this general will teach her a lesson.”

Prince Zhongshan laughed heartily. Just as he was about to say “good,” someone outside rushed in to report: “Your Highness, Empress Chu says she wants to talk with you.”

Talk?

She wasn’t directly attacking the city?

“She has self-awareness, knows that fighting won’t benefit her.”

“How ridiculous. At this point, what’s there to talk about?”

“Perhaps she’s come to surrender.”

“Then there’s no need to talk. She should just turn around and help the heir, take down the capital, then come talk.”

“Even then, there’s nothing to talk about. Talk about what? Does she still want to be the heir’s wife? Too late!”

The hall filled with discussion and cold mockery.

Prince Zhongshan listened with a smile, waving his hand to stop them: “Since Empress Chu wants to talk, what do we have to fear?” He looked at the messenger. “Go tell the Empress that this prince’s legs are inconvenient and I cannot go out. However, Prince Zhongshan’s mansion gates will open wide for Her Majesty the Empress. She may come anytime.”

Prince Zhongshan’s gates would open for the Empress. Would the Empress dare come to court death?