The day she left Shang Shen was a remarkably clear one. Although the New Year was approaching and the weather was cold, the sky was brilliantly blue like a pool of azure water, without a cloud in sight. Geese flew south in formation, and the sunlight carried a warm glow like spilled gold on silk. On the vast snowy plains, a line of well-fed war horses moved along the imperial road, winding and stretching, with fully two thousand people.
Now it was already the end of year 776 in the Bai Cang calendar. In just half a month, it would be the New Year. Along the way, they encountered many merchants traveling from the inland to conduct business. Fortune favors the bold, and with Yan Bei’s flourishing trade, even though the border warfare had not yet ceased, merchants from inland were now taking the southern route via waterways to enter Yan Bei for business.
Chu Qiao removed her heavy wind hood, tilting her face up to gaze at the azure sky, her eyes clear as water. In the blink of an eye, another year had passed. The young girl of yesterday had grown taller, and her features had taken on a more mature charm. Her hair was tied up neatly, and she wore a cyan fur coat, riding atop a fiery red warhorse.
Ge Qi galloped back from the front and said to her, “My lady, Commander He Xiao has sent word that we will camp at the foot of Min Xi Mountain tonight. He has led the advance troops to make preparations.”
Chu Qiao nodded when suddenly she heard a war eagle’s screech overhead. She immediately looked up, her gaze distant.
Beyond Min Xi Mountain lay Huo Lei Yuan, and further ahead was Yan Bei’s newly conquered northwestern barrier. That land was once Da Xia territory but had now been incorporated into Yan Bei’s domain. The war at Yan Ming Pass had already lasted an entire year.
This year, many events had occurred. Year 775 would leave a heavy mark in history books as the most turbulent and chaotic era on the Ximen continent. After Da Xia and Yan Bei went to war, just halfway through the conflict, civil unrest erupted in the Northern Capital, followed by the Rebellion of the Seven Princes, greatly limiting the resources and troops for the Northwestern campaign. Zhao Che had no choice but to change the planned offensive to a defensive stance, holding Yan Ming Pass firmly to buy time to quell domestic conflicts. However, just as things began to settle, the Emperor of Bian Tang suddenly passed away, and Prince Li Ce ascended the throne amidst the turmoil. Due to the instigation of treacherous forces within the country, Da Xia and Bian Tang ignited small-scale conflicts along their borders. If Zhao Yang hadn’t been dispatched to the border to quickly extinguish the flames of war, Da Xia would have faced the awkward and difficult situation of fighting on three fronts.
Everyone could see that within just one short year, Da Xia, once a military powerhouse, had visibly declined. In the west, they were unable to reclaim Yan Bei; in the north, they failed to pacify the people; in the south, they couldn’t intimidate Bian Tang; and in the east, they were constrained economically by Huai Song. The Ximen continent was no longer dominated by a single power as before.
Six months ago, Yan Xun formally ascended the throne at Sunset Mountain, declaring Yan Bei an independent nation named Yan, with the first year of his reign called “Chu Yuan.” Except for Da Xia, neither Bian Tang nor Huai Song raised any objections. With this, he finally became the true master of the Yan Bei territory, rightfully securing the throne.
Chu Qiao didn’t attend that day. She dismissed her subordinates and climbed Hui Hui Mountain alone. At the top of Hui Hui Mountain was the Nada Palace, built by Yan Shi City for his consort Bai Sheng. Constructed with snow-white floral stone, it was nestled among vibrant red and yellow blossoms, resembling an ink painting, quiet and peaceful without a trace of worldly smoke. With flying eaves and interlocking brackets, it was as exquisite as a fairy realm. The sound of flowing water seemed to narrate the virtuous king’s adoration for his wife.
She sat at the top of Hui Hui Mountain, listening to the carefree songs of shepherds from the summer pastures below. The melodious sounds brought peace to her heart as if all worries had vanished. Looking at the iron-gray shadow of Sunset Mountain on the horizon, droplets of emotion gradually covered her heart. Though thousands of miles away, she seemed to see the man in his dragon robe shining with golden brilliance. The corners of her mouth curved slightly into a smile as she raised her head. The gentle breeze caressed her face, the cyan hem of the young girl’s clothes swaying gently, a lonely corner like a blooming blue lotus.
Today’s Yan Bei was no longer the Yan Bei of the past. With Huai Song’s economic support, Yan Xun’s strategic advantages, and Chu Qiao’s construction and reforms in Yan Bei’s interior over the past year, people could already envision the gradual rise of this empire. Now Yan Bei was far ahead of the other three countries in military weaponry. Under Chu Qiao’s leadership, they had successively built large-scale armament factories, developed more than thirty major mining areas, improved water conservancy, and changed Yan Bei’s unsuitable agricultural conditions. In the Shang Shen and Hui Hui regions, they developed large grain-producing areas. By this autumn, Yan Bei’s grain production had increased by more than double compared to previous years, basically achieving self-sufficiency for the military. They actively developed medical institutions, established military schools, and expanded trade relations with Huai Song, Bian Tang, and regions beyond the borders, fostering the Yan Bei market and creating merchant teams.
Although Chu Qiao’s proposals regarding the reform of the slave system had never been approved, slaves were rarely seen in the marketplaces under her jurisdiction. Such enlightened policies and social systems attracted numerous civilians and merchants. In less than a year, large urban residential areas were established in the Hui Hui region. The once barren land now showed signs of becoming the commercial capital of the northwest.
Chu Qiao began to understand that when people have been blinded by dark systems for too many years, once light penetrates, they become like a giant water-absorbing sponge. Yan Bei controlled the northwestern trade routes, possessed vast territories and fertile land, had a developed animal husbandry industry, commanded the continent’s crucial transportation arteries, and owned immense mineral resources. Its people were hardworking, honest, and willing to endure hardship. Having lived in modern times for so many years, Chu Qiao had never seen a government implement a plan that would inspire such enthusiasm from the people. They demanded no payment, no salary, and no requirements for quality of life. As soon as a call was made, tens of thousands of free laborers would immediately gather – something almost unimaginable in modern times. Chu Qiao couldn’t help but reflect that Yan Bei possessed all the prerequisites for rising and maturing. If not for years of warfare, they would likely have already become one of the most powerful forces on the Ximen continent.
The designation of Southwestern Garrison had been abolished and was no longer part of Yan Bei’s regular army. Because they were stationed at the beautiful Xiu Li River below Hui Hui Mountain, the Southwestern Garrison was renamed the Xiu Li Army, and Chu Qiao became known as Lady Xiu Li among the Yan Bei people. The Xiu Li Army now had nine thousand troops, and today was their last mission escorting supplies to the front-line military headquarters. With the New Year approaching, the soldiers deserved a rest.
They finally reached Min Xi Mountain before nightfall. Although called a mountain, Min Xi Mountain was just a small hill less than a hundred meters high. By the time Chu Qiao and her group arrived, He Xiao had already led people to set up tents and prepare meals. After drinking a sip of steaming meat soup, the day’s fatigue finally began to fade.
The nights in Yan Bei were always the most beautiful. Today was the fifteenth, and the moon was large and round, casting a vast expanse of white over the snowy plains. Beyond the mountain was a tributary of Chi Shui, now frozen. Yesterday, when passing through Ma Wei City, the city lord insisted on giving Chu Qiao gifts. Unable to refuse, she could only pick a random box from the large cart. Now opening it, she found it contained a fine blue sable fur cloak. This great cloak was exquisitely crafted, entirely made with sable tails, with shiny fur that felt extremely good to the touch – a rare, high-quality item.
The large tent had four braziers lit, making it stuffy. Chu Qiao put on the great cloak and walked out. Walking to the foot of the mountain, she saw that the world was a plain of pristine white, with only a few old plum trees on the mountaintop, defiantly blooming in the snow, reaching the height of splendor. Set against the vast whiteness, they added a touch of desolation to her heart. Chu Qiao’s figure was sparse, the round moon cold as water, gently shrouding her silhouette. The local guide said there was a temple of the Yan Bei goddess at the top of the mountain, built by Yan Bei’s ancestors many years ago. Having withstood hundreds of years of wind and rain, it still watched over the Yan Bei land.
Chu Qiao lifted her feet and followed the rugged mountain path upward. The snow on the path was very deep, each step sinking to her knees. After walking for more than an hour, she finally reached the top.
This was a stone temple built entirely with West Lan stone. It wasn’t very large, about four men tall, with doors to the east and west. Chu Qiao stood at the western door, and upon entering, she saw a statue as tall as the ceiling, occupying nearly half the temple’s space. The temple was already quite dilapidated, with snow visible through many places on the roof. Inside, there were dried spider webs everywhere, dust covering everything, a complete mess. Only the statue remained untouched by dust, towering majestically. The goddess’s face was as plain as a lotus, and looking at her, Chu Qiao had the illusion that she was seeing Yan Xun’s mother from many years ago on the Nine Abyss Platform. Her eyes were calm, gentle as water. The stone-carved contours faintly revealed her flying skirts, and her abdomen was prominently swollen, clearly indicating pregnancy.
When she was very young, she had heard Yan Xun say that Yan Bei regarded females as divine. The goddess had two aspects: one was the fierce war goddess, wielding a battle axe, representing conquest and slaughter; the other was the gentle mother goddess, pregnant, representing protection and propagation. Seeing it today, it was indeed so.
She was about to walk to the other side for a look when her foot moved, and she immediately heard a slight footstep from the east.
A strong wind swept through the entire temple, entering from the western door, circling the statue, and exiting through the eastern door. Chu Qiao’s figure suddenly froze. She frowned slightly, her slender fingers slowly reaching for the Breaking Moon long sword at her waist. However, before she could draw it, the blade suddenly trembled, emitting a sound like a dragon’s chant, resonating softly within the temple.
Chu Qiao’s thoughts stirred, and an inexplicable impulse surged in her mind. She instinctively moved slightly, walking to the left side of the statue, then gently, peered around.
Outside, heavy snow was falling, and plum blossoms were blooming. As she casually looked up, a graceful figure appeared like rippling water before her eyes.
Under the battle axe of the female war goddess on the other side, he wore a silver-gray fox fur cloak, his hood half covering his face, with a flowing white robe, just like his elegant demeanor of years past. His eyes were as deep and still as a cold lake, his lips like red cinnabar on white jade. He was still so distinguished, handsome, and outstanding – no words in the world could adequately describe his appearance. A gust of wind blew the fiery plum blossoms from outside the temple onto his shoulders. The subtle fragrance lingered, and the clear moonlight penetrated the vast expanse of time, shining on this unexpected moment.
He also seemed somewhat stunned, not expecting to see her here. In the instant their eyes met, time seemed to flow backward, and the figures in their memories gradually overlapped with the faces before them. Years passed like flowing water, fate was unpredictable, and facing each other without words, neither knew what to say.
A tender yellow fledgling flapped its wings as it came into shelter from the snow, fluttering down to land on the statue’s shoulder. Its small, bean-like black eyes intelligently observed the two of them, emitting clear and pleasant chirps.
The man looked at her, his gaze penetrating the deep mist in the temple. His brow furrowed slightly as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately remained silent. Those warm, watery glances swept over her slender shoulders, her long neck, and her thin cheeks, and finally settled on her surprised eyes. After a long while, he calmly withdrew his gaze, and turned away indifferently, his figure desolate and lonely. The fur tips of his cloak swept over the fine dust on the ground, raising tiny particles that fell onto his snow-felt boots as he took steady steps toward the vast snowy plains outside the temple.
“There will be heavy snowstorms inland these days. Be careful on your journey.”
Just as Zhuge Yue reached the doorway, Chu Qiao’s voice sounded behind him, very calm, like fine Bian Tang Longjing tea – gentle, subtle, carrying a sweet fragrance.
He couldn’t help but stop in his tracks and turned back, slightly raising an eyebrow: “Aren’t you worried?”
Chu Qiao nodded honestly: “I am worried, but I have no choice.”
The young woman shrugged helplessly, putting on a very concerned appearance, but the words that came out carried the warmth of early spring. A hint of warmth flashed in Zhuge Yue’s eyes, though his tone remained steady as he said, “Rest assured, my disguised entry into Yan Bei’s interior has nothing to do with the war and will not harm your interests.”
“That’s good,” Chu Qiao smiled. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Yes,” Zhuge Yue nodded honestly.
Chu Qiao was startled, not expecting that there was something, and quickly asked, “What is it?”
“Don’t report me.”
Chu Qiao stared in astonishment, not expecting Zhuge Yue to joke. She was stunned for a moment before she realized and said, “How could I do that?”
The bird suddenly called out joyfully and darted toward a brazier in the corner. A meaty aroma wafted out. Chu Qiao walked a few steps past the statue and saw that in one corner of the temple was a red wooden carved table. On the table sat an exquisite copper pot cooking over a small fire, with savory soup bubbling and the aroma of meat spreading. Several plates of fresh meat and vegetables were arranged nearby, with a silver octagonal wine pot placed beside them.
Chu Qiao smiled slightly, pointing at Zhuge Yue, and said, “Are you leaving? Then all this is mine?”
Zhuge Yue thought for a moment, then surprisingly walked a few steps to the low table, swept his robe aside to sit down, and said indifferently, “Dream on.”
Worthy of being born into a great aristocratic family, having grown up among gold, jade, and embroidered silks, even while traveling away from home and in such an environment, Zhuge Yue still maintained his usual demeanor and habits. The food was exquisitely prepared in every detail. The lamb was sliced into thin pieces and rolled into circles. The vegetables were fresh, with undried water droplets still on them – it was a wonder how they had been preserved so well. The chopsticks were made of pure silver, and engraved with intricate and complex patterns. Zhuge Yue picked up a chopstick full of lamb and placed it in the bubbling copper pot. The meat changed color, tumbling up and down with the water waves, layers of white steam rising, spreading between the two of them. Eating this in such cold weather was truly one of life’s great pleasures.
There was a complete set of cups. Chu Qiao remembered Zhuge Yue’s habits; in the past at Qing Shan Court, even when he ate alone, he always set out a full set of tableware, as if many people were dining with him.
She picked up the wine pot, poured him a cup, then poured one for herself. Seeing this, Zhuge Yue frowned slightly and asked, “Didn’t you never drink alcohol?”
The hand holding Chu Qiao’s cup trembled slightly. He was right; she had never drunk alcohol before. But when did she start to like this mind-confusing substance? She slowly raised her eyes, calmly looking at him, lifting her cup and saying, “Borrowing flowers to offer Buddha, I toast you.”
Zhuge Yue’s eyes were deep, and he didn’t pick up his wine, quietly observing her.
Chu Qiao drank it down and said calmly, “This cup is to thank you for the many times you’ve spared my life and lent me aid over these years.”
After a year apart, Chu Qiao seemed to have grown taller. On her clear, pretty face were two fine eyebrows, and her eyes were large, as if covered by a layer of mist that made them impenetrable. A cup of wine sat before him, but Zhuge Yue didn’t drink. He just held his chopsticks, silently adding meat to the pot, not raising his eyes as he said, “Just eat without all the talk. Are we performing in a drama?”
Chu Qiao frowned and said, “Meals always have opening remarks.”
Zhuge Yue scoffed: “Dealing with those old men in the capital is enough; I don’t have the energy to exchange pleasantries with you here.”
Chu Qiao muttered something under her breath and also picked up her chopsticks to eat the meat. Seeing her move too quickly, Zhuge Yue cautioned, “Be careful, it’s hot.”
No sooner had he spoken than Chu Qiao cried out, clearly burning her mouth. Seeing this, Zhuge Yue raised an eyebrow obliquely and softly uttered two words: “Serves you right.”
Although she had burned her tongue, the taste was really good. The two sat there, at first engaging in casual conversation where the real meaning lay beyond the words, but gradually they focused on eating. Before long, the large pot of lamb was emptied. Chu Qiao, still unsatisfied, used her chopsticks to fish around in the pot, like a rabbit eating all the vegetable leaves in the pot.
“I heard you got promoted. Congratulations.”
Zhuge Yue said indifferently, “It’s nothing. Killed eight or ten thousand Yan Bei soldiers, and earned some military merit. I heard you got promoted too?”
“Same congratulations. I uprooted your remaining Da Xia troops from Mei Lin Pass and earned a minor official position,” Chu Qiao glanced at him and asked, “I heard you’ve become Da Xia’s Western Front Military Governor and no longer serve under Zhao Che?”
“Thanks to the Emperor’s favor, it’s a small achievement, not worthy of honor,” Zhuge Yue said indifferently. “I heard the Southwestern Garrison has been removed from the regular army roster, expelled from Yan Bei’s regular military establishment, and restricted in the scale of weapons they can use.”
“The Xiu Li Army now belongs to the local security system, and restrictions on weapons are only reasonable. But I heard that the Wei family has dispatched Wei Shu Ye to Yan Ming Pass, seemingly to divide your authority?” Chu Qiao raised her eyebrows with a smile.
“Intentions are always good, but whether they can achieve their goals is another matter. I heard that the Da Tong leader Wu Dao Ya has been confined to Sunset City and didn’t even attend this winter’s military parade.”
“All organizations have some internal friction; you’ve had your ups and downs too. Moreover, some things heard are not necessarily accurate. For instance, I heard that Zhao Yang is actively recruiting troops on the southern front, hindering the western front campaign, but I don’t know if it’s true or false.”
“The saying goes, ‘Three people claiming to have seen a tiger makes it real.’ I heard you’ve been reforming and building in Yan Bei’s interior, promoting culture, education, and commerce, even secretly doing business with Da Xia merchants. Truly impressive.”
“I’m just making small efforts, but I heard you decisively defeated Yan Bei forces in the battles of Qiu Qiu and Jin Hui, capturing over ten thousand people from the Second Army, Eighth Team. Otherwise, we might have been able to charge into Da Xia’s heartland during their northern disturbances.”
“Da Xia has been established for over three hundred years; it’s not so easily breached. I heard that thousands upon thousands of people starved to death in the northern Quan Rong region this winter. Aren’t you worried they might open a war with Yan Bei on the northern route at this time?”
“What must come will come; worrying is useless. Better to be prepared. Besides, I also heard that the Zhenren Li in Da Xia’s northeastern mountains is eagerly planning to follow Yan Bei’s example of independence. Do you think they will succeed?”
“I heard Lady Yu of the Da Tong Association has also been marginalized.”
“I heard last month Da Xia’s Elder Council gave an empty seat to the Murong family from Hexi. Truly, thirty years east of the river, thirty years west.”
“I heard Yan Bei has newly developed an extremely hard material that can forge weapons more rigid and tough than iron. Is it your creation?”
“I heard Zhen Huang passed the forty-sixth lock-closing document, restricting the circulation of combat materials in the market and planning to use military force against Huai Song. Was it initiated by you?”
“I heard your mission is to escort supplies to Yan Bei headquarters, and if these supplies don’t arrive, the headquarters will certainly run out of food.”
“I heard your mission is to gather information about commerce within Yan Bei’s borders and investigate forces that have trade relations with Yan Bei. Once verified, they will surely face purges from Da Xia.”
“Hmm…”
Two long dragon-humming sounds immediately interrupted their conversation. The two swords placed on the ground table were humming and still slightly vibrating as if even they could sense the gunpowder-like tension in the air. The little yellow bird had long disappeared. Outside, heavy snow fell, leaving only the two of them sitting opposite each other. The charcoal fire crackled, rolling water bubbled in the copper pot, and the deep red chili peppers resembled the blood shed by soldiers.
After all, they stood on different sides, in opposing positions, and just now, they seemed to deliberately indulge in the release of these emotions to remind themselves: that they were not friends, much less anything more. They each had their responsibilities.
“I heard that after the New Year, you will be having a grand wedding with Yan Xun.”
Zhuge Yue finally picked up his wine cup and brought it to his lips, seemingly casually letting out this sentence.
Chu Qiao also raised her head, calming the chaotic breath in her chest, and said softly, “I also heard that you’ve long been engaged to General Le Xing’s daughter.”
Zhuge Yue nodded: “Yes, the wedding date is not far off.”
“General Meng is already elderly, and General Le Xing’s position in court is stable. Marrying his child will greatly benefit your official career.”
Zhuge Yue smiled faintly: “Next time I see you, perhaps I should address you as the Yan King’s Consort.”
Chu Qiao shook her head, saying seriously, “Yan Bei has already declared independence. To be precise, you should address me as the Queen of Yan.”
Zhuge Yue scoffed, drinking alone without speaking. The wind blew between them, carrying an icy chill. Chu Qiao looked at Zhuge Yue, and all past events seemed to flash by in a blur. She stared blankly, somewhat lost in thought, holding her cup, not knowing what to say.
“I saw that person.”
“Who?” Chu Qiao asked.
“The one who led me to deploy troops to kill the Southwestern Garrison Commander,” Zhuge Yue raised his head and slowly said, “His name is Cheng Yuan, now the commander of Yan Bei’s First Army, replacing Wu Dao Ya’s position. Currently, he’s the most powerful figure in Yan Bei aside from Yan Xun.”
Chu Qiao silently lowered her gaze without speaking. Zhuge Yue looked at her, contemplated for a moment, then nodded and said, “You were right to retreat to Yan Bei’s interior. The forces within the Yan Bei army are intricately entangled, not a place you should stay.”
Chu Qiao smiled, “Yes, I’ve had a good year.”
“That’s good,” Zhuge Yue laughed heartily, “One should fulfill the duties of one’s position. The Yan Bei army is riddled with competing factions, and the Da Tong Association is deeply entrenched. If not for the threat of our army, Yan Xun would have long been marginalized and deposed. One or two insightful and virtuous individuals are useless; the power struggle has become inevitable. Your understanding of these circumstances greatly benefits you.”
Chu Qiao nodded, “I understand. Achieving any goal requires paying a price. A minor setback won’t defeat me.”
Zhuge Yue smiled, his fox fur cloak clustering around his slightly bluish chin. Zhuge Yue was handsome, and within this handsomeness, there was even a hint of devilishness. But as he sat before Chu Qiao now, speaking words that only the two of them could understand, Chu Qiao suddenly felt that this person understood her deeply. Some things Yan Xun didn’t understand, things she was unwilling to face, yet he could keenly discern through subtle clues—including her dreams, her beliefs, her hopes, her joys, her troubles, and so on.
He was a formidable person, possessing keen battle instincts, exceptional martial skills, artful strategic methods, and powerful family influence. However, Chu Qiao could never see clearly what he truly wanted after all these years.
Yan Xun wanted revenge, wanted to crush Da Xia and dominate the world. Zhao Che wanted the throne, wanted to enrich the country, and strengthened the military to become a great ruler. Li Ce also wanted Da Xia, wanted to recover lost territory and revive the Tang dynasty’s glory. But Zhuge Yue—what did he want? No one knew, no one could see clearly. Looking into those jet-black eyes, Chu Qiao felt herself gradually sinking into them. His gaze was like a vortex, looking deeply at her, appearing calm on the surface but containing a burning fire within.
Perhaps, he had once told her what he wanted. In the misty southern regions of Bian Tang, he had held her, suppressing his pride and anger as he said in a low voice, “I need you too.”
How could such words have come from his mouth? However, those words ultimately became her affliction, a nightmare she could never overcome in her lifetime, became a jest she could never respond to.
“Zhuge Yue, on the battlefield, weapons show no mercy, and in court, situations are unpredictable. Take care of yourself.”
Zhuge Yue smiled gently. He rarely showed such a tender expression. His eyes gazed at the goddess statue in the center of the temple as he slowly said, “Those things can’t hurt me.”
Everyone has a fatal weakness, and he would soon be covered by someone else’s surname. From then on, he would no longer have a fatal weakness.
Zhuge Yue stood up. His tall figure standing in the moonlight possessed an extraordinary handsomeness, like a marble sculpture, his face gleaming with brilliant light. He quietly raised his head, looking at the towering war goddess statue. The woman’s beautiful face flashed with a fierce and imposing aura. Ancient times had meticulously sculpted the dark red armor on her body. The entire red cloud stone had fine engravings as if blood vessels were flowing within. She held a sharp battle axe, standing back-to-back with the fertility goddess, her eyes emitting sharp and fierce light, like angry flames and knives.
Zhuge Yue’s mind momentarily blurred. He couldn’t articulate his feelings upon first seeing this statue. In a daze, he seemed to see a person through her, a person who, like this war goddess, possessed firm beliefs and noble ideals. In the past, he had often scoffed at such things. Growing up among aristocratic families, accustomed to schemes and traps, the belief that human nature was evil had long taken root in his heart. Calculation and speculation had become necessities of life, as ordinary as eating and sleeping. But later, gradually, he came to understand that a person does not live solely for themselves. People can have great ideals, and when a person strives for these ideals, that is when they are most beautiful. He didn’t know what force sustained her, didn’t know why she was so steadfast and resolute, he never believed in fate, but sometimes, he would even think that perhaps heaven’s will was on her side. Such a person—perhaps even the heavens would be reluctant to disappoint.
Certain feelings that he found hateful and even shameful had already taken root in his heart. He despised his cowardice and madness but could not resist the increasingly burning thoughts in his heart day after day. He could no longer remember when it had begun. They were so young then; she was barely as tall as a horse’s leg. How could such absurd feelings have developed?
Yet, in so many nights thereafter, in the depths of midnight dreams, he would always recall the look in the child’s eyes as she left—persevering, fierce, unyielding, like an angry little leopard that would never submit to a hunter’s whip. He thought he must have been bewitched, bewitched for many years, bewitched by such firm beliefs, bewitched by such sharp eyes, and by the words she had said to him many times: “Zhuge Yue, just you watch!”
So he watched, kept watching, watched her emerge from her cocoon like a butterfly, watched her reach the pinnacle, watched her exhausted body, watched her fall time and again only to rise once more, watched her stand beside another, and despite facing heartbreak and injustice, never wavering, as steadfast as a mountain.
In this world, who would stay by your side without leaving when you’ve completely fallen into hell? Who would depend on you for life when you have nothing? Who would risk their life to follow you? And who, after being neglected, would still stand unwavering by your side?
Yan Xun, how fortunate you are, yet how ignorant of the treasure you possess.
Zhuge Yue laughed with abandon, turning to leave. Outside, the strong wind howled, blowing up his cloak, the hem fluttering. He walked straight ahead. If it cannot be obtained, better to let go gracefully. In the dictionary of Zhuge Yue’s life, there was no such word as “plead.”
“Zhuge Yue!” Chu Qiao suddenly shouted, and Zhuge Yue’s body trembled before stopping. The young woman rushed forward anxiously, her footsteps sinking deep into the snow.
Zhuge Yue turned back, slightly frowning, “Is there anything else?”
Chu Qiao unfastened the Breaking Moon sword from her waist, then held it up in her hands, offering it to him, her expression solemn as she said, “Take care on your journey.”
Zhuge Yue looked at the sword in her hand but didn’t take it, nor did he show any intention of returning the Remnant Red sword at his waist. Chu Qiao felt slightly awkward, but she still stubbornly held it out, her eyes fixed on him like a child refusing to eat after being denied candy.
“What does this mean?”
Chu Qiao bit her lip, thought for a moment, and finally said, “The full-scale war between Yan Bei and Da Xia is about to erupt. We may inevitably meet on the battlefield. I won’t show mercy, and you needn’t concern yourself with me anymore. We…”
Zhuge Yue’s expression suddenly turned cold. He lowered his head, slightly frowning. Chu Qiao felt uncomfortable under his gaze, and her voice gradually became softer.
“Xing’er, honestly speaking, if we meet on the battlefield, would you truly cut off my head?”
Zhuge Yue’s voice was deep and smooth. This sentence seemed not to come from his throat but to be transmitted along with his heavy heartbeat. Chu Qiao’s palms were cool, yet fine sweat flowed down. Her mouth was very dry. She took a deep breath, suppressing the discomfort in her heart, and slowly said, “I won’t kill you, but I will do my utmost to defeat you.”
A low laugh slowly emerged. Zhuge Yue lowered his head, shaking it slightly. He didn’t speak, just took the sword from Chu Qiao’s hand, holding it reversed as he stepped on the snow, turning to leave.
“Unfortunately, I cannot.”
The hoarse voice echoed on the mountaintop. The strong wind blew noisily, instantly shattering the sound into fragments.
It was not that he could not, but that he was unwilling because he always knew that sometimes, for them, defeat was equivalent to death.
And how could he deprive her of the only bargaining chip for her survival?
The snow fell heavier and heavier. On the eastern side of Min Xi Mountain, a caravan disguised as ordinary merchants was setting up camp, presumably Zhuge Yue’s men. Chu Qiao stood at the temple entrance, watching the man’s figure gradually disappear into the vast snowstorm, feeling a chill throughout her body. She walked in alone, picked up the wine pot from the ground, and tilted her head back for a drink. The warm liquor flowed down her throat, bringing a spicy fragrance.
Looking up, she saw the war goddess’s fierce eyes gazing at her as if reproaching her for her rashness and disregard for the bigger picture, while on the other side, the mother goddess’s eyes were gentle, seeming to understand all her hardships. She slowly slumped to the ground, leaning against the tall pillar, and hugging her knees. She was so thin, looking like a child who hadn’t grown up.
For the first time in her life, she closed her eyes with her hands clasped together, her tired voice echoing in the temple, quietly saying, “Where is the path to the future? I can no longer see clearly.”
When they set out the next day, suddenly there came the sound of urgent hoofbeats from behind. On the vast white snowy plain, a swift horse galloped urgently toward them. The woman on the horse wore a silver-gray fox fur cloak that appeared somewhat large on her. She came from the east, and upon seeing Chu Qiao’s troops, she didn’t stop but rode straight toward them.
He Xiao, with his handsome eyebrows raised, rode forward and said in a deep voice, “Who goes there? State your name!”
The woman turned her head to look at him, arching her eyebrow corners in a dazzling smile, and then whipped her horse more vigorously, charging forward. He Xiao frowned and moved to block her, but the woman raised her willow eyebrows and said in a crisp tone, “Jixiang, kick him!”
Her warhorse seemed to understand her words, suddenly stopping with a long neigh. As He Xiao approached, it suddenly reared up, its two front legs kicking He Xiao’s warhorse in the belly. He Xiao’s horse whinnied in pain and tumbled into the snow.
He Xiao was agile enough to roll forward on the ground and stand firm, though his helmet fell off, his hair full of snow, making him look quite disheveled.
“Who are you?” the man asked angrily.
But the woman didn’t even look at him. She smiled slightly at the approaching woman and said, “Are you Chu Qiao?”
Chu Qiao nodded, looking at her intently. The woman had fine features, skin that seemed as if it would break at the slightest touch, gentle eyes, and a soft face. At first glance, her face was as pure as snow, her black eyes like stars, resembling a graceful water lotus, crisp and white. However, her face subtly revealed a heroic spirit, her gaze pure, forming her unique temperament. She cheerfully assessed Chu Qiao, not at all minding being examined in return. However, what attracted Chu Qiao’s attention was not her appearance but the cloak she wore. If her memory served correctly, this garment had been on Zhuge Yue’s body just last night.
Seeing this, her eye corners slightly tightened, and her brow unconsciously began to furrow.
“My young master asked me to give this to you.”
The Remnant Red sword was neatly wrapped in a sword bag. Chu Qiao reached out to take it, nodding in thanks, “Thank you. May I know your honorable name?”
“My surname is Meng. I think we will meet again soon. Farewell.”
With that, the woman surnamed Meng pulled the reins, and her warhorse quickly turned around and left, leaving the fuming Commander He Xiao standing in place, indignant.
“My lady, who is this woman?”
The guards around were all elite members of the Southwestern Garrison, the most trustworthy subordinates. Chu Qiao didn’t hold back and said indifferently, “It seems this is Major Meng Feng, who has been making waves on the Da Xia-Yan battlefield for the past half year.”
“Meng Feng? General Meng Tian’s little granddaughter?”
Chu Qiao didn’t speak. She lowered her head and drew the Remnant Red sword, its sharp edge faintly reflecting her dark eyes. It had been two years since she had seen this sword, and during these two years, she had become accustomed to using Breaking Moon.
Ge Qi asked He Xiao in a low voice, “She’s Meng Tian’s granddaughter? How does she not look like it? Honestly, I think she looks a bit like our Queen Bai Sheng.”
“Don’t talk nonsense!” He Xiao quickly explained, “She’s an orphan adopted by General Meng, raised like a boy from childhood. She even went to Shang Wu Hall to study with the Meng family’s sons. After Zhuge Yue was promoted to Military Governor, she was assigned to serve under him. She’s been very active on the battlefield for the past half year. How did she get here? My lady, should we chase after her to find out? There might be a trick.”
Chu Qiao didn’t speak but stared silently at the sword. He Xiao called her twice before she replied, her expression seemingly calm as she said indifferently, “Everyone would do well to pretend they didn’t see what happened today.”
With these words, everyone immediately understood, and the army continued to march.
Meanwhile, Meng Feng finally caught up with Zhuge Yue’s disguised party. She secretly took off the cloak, handed it to Zhuge Yue’s personal guard, then changed her clothes and walked naturally to Zhuge Yue’s side, saying, “The item has been delivered.”
Zhuge Yue walked away as if he hadn’t heard. Meng Feng watched his back with a smile, her mind vigorously analyzing. Generally, there are two types of people who walk away without waiting for others to finish speaking: one who has no interest in the matter at all, and one who fears others will see through their inner turbulence. Looking at her fellow student from Shang Wu Hall, whistling leisurely, what Zhuge Yue, the great governor, was thinking was obvious to all.
“Well worth the trip, well worth it indeed.”
Three days later, Chu Qiao finally arrived at the Yan Bei military camp below the Xue Kui River.
After unloading the supplies, it was already dark. Chu Qiao was invited to stay for dinner. After eating and chatting briefly with some colleagues, she returned to her tent.
Not having seen her for a year, Ping An had grown significantly, already a young man. He cheerfully heated water for her, chattering away, displaying great affection.
Yan Xun was not in the military camp. A fortress named Dragon Chant Pass had been built adjacent to Xue Kui River, facing Yan Ming Pass across the river. The Yan Bei army was all concentrated behind the pass. He had moved the military headquarters to the past and rarely came here anymore.
Having trudged through snow for many days, it had been a long time since she had enjoyed a comfortable bath. Lying in the bathtub now, she was so comfortable she wanted to fall asleep, but there were still official documents to review and handle. She quickly took a quick bath, then dragged her tired body to sit under the lamp, carefully examining the papers.
Over the past year, the continental situation has been favorable for Yan Bei. Not only was Da Xia fractured, but both Bian Tang and Huai Song had experienced frequent turmoil. The emperors of both Song and Tang had passed away, leaving their domestic affairs unstable, with no energy to spare for external matters. They also frequently clashed with Da Xia at the borders, greatly restricting Da Xia’s military investment in the northwest, giving Yan Bei breathing room. Moreover, according to spy reports, the Da Xia Emperor’s health was deteriorating daily, relying on alchemists’ pills for support. His temper was volatile, his memory poor, and he often executed people for minor issues. People in Zhen Huang City were anxious, with most senior officials claiming illness to stay home. All state affairs, large and small, were handed to the Elder Council. Following the downfall of the Mu He clan and old Batu, the He Lian clan was also uprooted. Now the Elder Council existed in name only. The Nanling Mu family had withdrawn from the capital, and the current Elder Council was essentially an arena for Wei Guang and Zhuge Mu Qing, with others merely serving as accompaniments.
Although the Wei faction appeared prosperous on the surface, it was unworthy of its name. Everyone knew that among the young generation of the Wei family’s direct line, only the indecisive Wei Shu Ye remained, while the Zhuge family had both Zhuge Yue and Zhuge Huai supporting their position. Zhuge Yue had repeatedly achieved military merits, fighting alongside Zhao Che, attacking and defending, and keeping Yan Ming Pass as impregnable as gold. Throughout the year, Yan Xun and Zhao Che had been locked in a fierce struggle, with victories and defeats on both sides, but Zhuge Yue had never suffered a defeat. Even Yan Xun had suffered a major defeat at his hands in Qiu Qiu, losing over three thousand soldiers and nearly having his commander’s flag captured by Zhuge Yue’s top general, Yue Qi.
Speaking of the battle at Qiu Qiu, it could only be said that Yan Xun was unlucky. From his uprising until now, he had never experienced such a devastating defeat.
The original battle plan was in Ji Province. First Army General Cheng Yuan and Bian Cang each led 30,000 troops to ambush Da Xia’s supply headquarters in Ji Province via the waterway and the southern mountain path. At that time, Zhuge Yue was still the army’s supply coordinator, naturally stationed in Ji Province. However, that day, the young master Zhuge suddenly had a whim to eat river crabs in Song Yuan, and on the way, he happened to encounter scouts from General Cheng Yuan’s vanguard, thus learning of their movements. After learning everything, Zhuge Yue didn’t raise an alarm but waited for Cheng Yuan and Bian Cang to arrive, setting a trap. A subsequent fire killed over 30,000 Yan Bei soldiers, with 10,000 captured. Zhuge Yue, leading fewer than 8,000 supply escort troops disguised as Yan Bei soldiers, guided by Yan Bei traitors, marched openly through cities and towns, directly entering Qiu Qiu. Yan Xun’s subordinates failed to check, only realizing when Zhuge Yue’s army had entered the central military camp.
The battle began and ended with stunning rapidity. After burning, killing, and plundering, Zhuge Yue’s guards pulled down the pole of Yan Xun’s main tent. If not for the Yan Bei Imperial Guards’ desperate defense, even the military flag might have been captured.
Yan Xun was in the camp that day, but amid the chaos, he couldn’t control the scattered troops. He considered this battle a great shame in his life, and no one dared mention it. It was because of this battle that Zhuge Yue was released from the second line of logistics and formally took command of Da Xia’s western front.
Looking at this battle report now, Chu Qiao carefully pondered for a long time, still feeling there were too many loopholes in this battle. First, Zhuge Yue’s approach was too risky. If that day, after capturing the scouts, Cheng Yuan and others had shown some awareness and set up an encirclement, his 8,000 men could never have broken through a circle of 60,000. Second, with such few troops infiltrating Yan Bei so conspicuously, if they had been recognized, it would have been a life-and-death situation. Third, if the soldiers on duty that night had been more alert, or if Yan Xun had been able to control the situation earlier during the chaos, Zhuge Yue’s chances of success would have been very small. Finally, there was the issue of withdrawal. Even now, Yan Bei couldn’t figure out Zhuge Yue’s retreat route. They seemed to have vanished into thin air, and despite Yan Bei soldiers turning the northwest area upside down, they couldn’t find them.
If Chu Qiao were to fight this battle, she might have dozens of methods to respond, but she had to admit that all this was merely theoretical. The outcome of battles often depends on many factors, such as soldiers’ trust in and loyalty to their officers, the army’s morale, individual combat capabilities, as well as intelligence, horses, weapons, and so on. Undeniably, Zhuge Yue’s army was an extremely powerful force; claiming they could fight ten enemies with one soldier was no exaggeration. But Chu Qiao still couldn’t agree with such tactics. However, she believed there must be something she wasn’t seeing clearly. He wasn’t the type of person to act impulsively.
Nevertheless, victory is victory. In an almost reckless manner, he had paraded through Yan Bei’s main camp, killing and burning while Yan Xun was present. This was an incomparable blow to Yan Bei’s morale.
Dealing with someone like him required thinking outside normal patterns.
The night grew increasingly thick, even the air carrying the distinctive smell of an army camp. The lamplight shone on Chu Qiao’s face, projecting half of her thin profile onto the tent wall. From outside, it was a clear, elegant shadow.
It had been a year since she had seen Yan Xun. During this year, apart from regular official correspondence, they had almost no interaction, and their occasional letters maintained a strictly formal tone. Until recently, when an elderly nanny who had cared for Yan Xun as a child suddenly arrived at Hui Hui Mountain, found Chu Qiao, and carefully laid out everything Yan Xun had instructed her to bring. Then, with a mouth full of auspicious words, she praised Chu Qiao for being virtuous, kind, and beautiful as flowers. After listening for a long while, Chu Qiao finally understood – she had been sent by Yan Xun to arrange their marriage.
Arrange their marriage?
What an absurd thing. Two people who would live together for a lifetime, yet requiring others to wear out their tongues on their behalf. And with their relationship, they had reached the point of needing someone to arrange their marriage.
The nanny had come ostensibly to arrange the marriage, but in reality, she was merely informing Chu Qiao. Gifts flowed like water, filling Chu Qiao’s room, extending along the corridor to the courtyard, all rare treasures: pearls as large as a child’s fist, coral formations taller than a person, cicada-silk garments so light they would fly with a breath, jade shoes carved from whole pieces of Cui Lan West Gong jade, chicken-blood stone teardrop ornaments from Ming Lang Mountain, seven-colored enamel from South Gong, as well as exotic treasures and rare furs from the Western Regions, and so on. It was as if all the splendors of the world had dissolved before her eyes in an instant, dazzling gold that stung one’s eyes. Moreover, Yan Xun had announced that he would build a Nada Palace on Sunset Mountain as her residence, just as his father had done. It was only then that Chu Qiao learned that the word “Nada” in the northern language meant “beloved.”
All the luxury imaginable was laid before her. Perhaps she should have been moved, perhaps she should have been overjoyed with tears of gratitude, but her heart contained not a trace of elation. She sat in the rattan chair, her fingertips pale and cold, her heart desolate. If it had been a year ago, she might have jumped up with joy, but now, she couldn’t help feeling that these were Yan Xun’s veiled forms of appeasement and compensation.
Yan Xun had gradually changed, changed until she could no longer recognize him. Many times, she would question the ultimate meaning of everything she had done. Even if Yan Xun won, it would merely be the Yan family replacing the Zhao family, one dynasty superseding another. All her previous expectations were moving along a different track, while she shamelessly continued to deceive those kind-hearted common people, encouraging them to rebuild their homes, encouraging them join the army, encouraging them to fight bravely against enemies. They risked their lives and shed their blood on the battlefield, believing they were establishing a different era for their descendants, but in the end, perhaps it was all in vain. These simple common people were fighting a war that had nothing to do with them, and they were completely unaware.
Whenever she thought of this, Chu Qiao felt like a bastard, a complete fraud.
She wondered if Liang Shu Dai had come to Yan Bei. If he had come, would he feel betrayed by Chu Qiao?
She leaned quietly against the desk, her head resting on the scrolls, feeling somewhat tired. The candlelight flickered dimly, occasionally sparking. Everything was so quiet that she became drowsy and seemed about to fall asleep.
Yan Xun had been standing outside the tent for a long time. Upon learning that Chu Qiao had arrived a day early, he had ridden back to the headquarters overnight with only about twenty guards. In the current situation, such behavior was irrational. There were simply too many people who wanted him dead now, not just Da Xia and Quan Rong, but even people in Yan Bei, including those outwardly loyal ministers of his. However, the desire to see her face was so urgent that he rarely lost his rationality, but after racing all the way here, standing outside her tent, he didn’t dare to enter.
The fearsome King of Yan Bei, who dared to lead troops into the heart of Da Xia even when Yan Bei was in peril, now feared a small tent, considering it a luxury even to approach.
Old Nanny Yin had returned saying that Achu had wept with joy upon hearing of the marriage, kneeling on the ground to express her gratitude. He knew that was just what the old woman said to please him. How could someone like Achu weep with joy in front of them? How could she kneel to thank him? They had been together for so many years, he could almost imagine her expression when she heard all this. She would have sat there indifferently, listening to the old nanny’s endless chatter, silently saying nothing, her gaze drifting toward you, seeming to listen yet not listen, then gently nodding her head when the nanny finished, saying “I understand.”
Yes, just like that.
Yan Xun simulated the scene in his mind: beside her would be books and documents not yet closed, cold tea on the table. She would wear casual cotton clothes, sitting in a chair, her long hair cascading down both sides, indifferent as if everything had absolutely nothing to do with her.
Despite this being their marriage, a marriage they had fantasized about countless times since their days in Zhen Huang.
Yan Xun didn’t know where things had gone wrong, or perhaps he knew but was unwilling to face it. He thought he still trusted Achu; he knew that whoever betrayed him in this world, Achu never would. But precisely because of this, he was even more reluctant to keep her in the army, unwilling to let her have too much contact with the Southwestern Garrison. Things are always changing; even if you don’t have certain thoughts, other people and other things will push you, ride you, and drive you to walk this path. He feared that one day, their positions would place them in opposition, and when they each had supporters behind them, they would be unable to retreat.
Achu was an excellent military strategist but not an excellent politician. She would never understand the darkness of politics. And to achieve his goals, how many rivers of blood must he wade through, how many mountains of human heads must he pile up? He had no regrets; all this was his choice. He wasn’t forced into anything; no one compelled him to do this. He even enjoyed it, relishing the process of scheming and killing. The resentment and hatred accumulated over many years gnawed at him day and night like insects. Those humiliations were nightmares he could never forget in his lifetime. However, he only hoped that while he was doing all this, she wouldn’t watch from the side, wouldn’t stare at him with those clear eyes, gradually losing hope, gradually falling into despair.
She might be angry now, but time heals all wounds. He had a lifetime to make amends and explain.
Yan Xun’s lips formed a determined smile. When he ruled the world, she would understand everything he had done today.
The lamplight in the tent cast a thin shadow, the outline of eyebrows and eyes so clear that he could distinguish the nose, the eyes, and the hands.
The moon shone upon him, his black great cloak appearing heavy and oppressive. The man’s figure was desolate, behind him a vast expanse of white. In the distance, a soldier was singing a Yan Bei long tune, the melody winding and lingering, seeming to soar to the heavens.
Yan Xun slowly extended his hand. Under the moonlight, a faint gray shadow was cast on the tent. Yan Xun’s hand lifted high, closer and closer, until finally, the gray shadow touched the black shadow’s nose tip, cheek, and forehead. The virtual light and shadow mimicked the contours of the woman inside the tent, like a lover’s hand.
He wanted to touch her hand, but just as he was about to make contact, a dark cloud suddenly drifted over, blocking the moon. The earth instantly plunged into darkness. Yan Xun stood there awkwardly, hand extended, the snow on the ground blown onto his great cloak by the wind, like a statue.
After staying at the military camp for three days without encountering Yan Xun, on the fourth day, he finally came down from the pass. When Yan Xun saw Chu Qiao, she was packing her bags. He walked in abruptly, without any soldier announcing him. The dazzling light shot in from behind him; Chu Qiao looked up against the light, momentarily blinded.
Yan Xun wore a black robe embroidered with dark golden dragons. His eyes were like deep pools, silently gazing at her, without speaking for a long time.
The light was too piercing, with tiny dust particles floating up and down in the beam. Chu Qiao looked at Yan Xun, vaguely recalling the Oriole Song House from many years ago, when the young man would return from practice drenched in sweat, always liking to stand silently behind her, waiting for her to discover him. They were so lonely then, with no one around them except each other, unlike now, surrounded by thousands of people yet growing increasingly distant.
Chu Qiao stood up, intending to curtsy, but the word “Emperor” could not leave her lips. Yan Xun stepped forward and grasped her hand. She neither avoided nor looked up. Her body was gently embraced by a pair of arms, her forehead resting against his chest. The steady, powerful heartbeat transmitted one beat after another, reminding Chu Qiao of the rumbling war drums atop North Shuo City. The morning sun was like blood, the earth sprinkled with gold, the tent curtains billowing in the wind. Chu Qiao kept her eyes open as if seeing the crisp pasture of midsummer. Her heart had already drifted far, far away, anywhere but here.
“Achu, are you leaving?” Yan Xun asked softly but received no answer for a long time. He released her and saw her wandering, unfocused eyes, like a deep lake, dark and impenetrable.
“Achu?”
Chu Qiao raised her head, nodded, and said, “Yes, I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“It’s almost the New Year, stay.”
“Not very convenient, there are some matters I need to return to handle.”
Yan Xun insisted stubbornly, “Let someone else handle the matters. I want to spend the New Year with you.”
“The Quan Rong people are eyeing Mei Lin Pass. I’m concerned.”
“The Quan Rong people also celebrate the New Year,” Yan Xun looked at her, as if nothing had ever happened between them, stubbornly saying, “You don’t need to do everything yourself. I will arrange for others to take care of it.”
Chu Qiao had nothing more to say. She lowered her head, watching the light and shadows cast small circles on the ground, like mottled squares. Yan Xun’s mood suddenly improved. He smiled, saying he wanted to take Chu Qiao to Xi Ling City for the New Year. It was a newly built city, so bustling and lively. He had prepared a comfortable residence and personally arranged her room. He repeatedly emphasized a certain snack there, saying he had eaten it as a child. After reclaiming Yan Bei, he searched nationwide for the chef who made this snack, only to find that he had died in the wars. Fortunately, his son was still alive and had inherited his father’s skills, now staying in the villa in Xi Ling City.
He said so many words, even becoming somewhat verbose. Chu Qiao listened for a long time, then suddenly looked up and quietly said, “Yan Xun, I don’t want to stay here.”
Yan Xun was suddenly stunned, his tongue seemingly tied. His flowing words abruptly ceased. He looked at Chu Qiao for a long time before slowly saying, “Are you still angry with me?”
Chu Qiao shook her head, her eyes calm and unperturbed.
“I just don’t want to stay here with you, pretending all is well, acting as if nothing happened. When you come to your senses, let everything go, and no longer harbor suspicion and vigilance, then I’ll return.”
Yan Xun stood there, his expression becoming extremely indifferent. He gave Chu Qiao a deep look, then turned and walked out, taking large strides, his figure quickly disappearing.
Chu Qiao sat on the bed, suddenly feeling very tired. This cold war seemed meaningless to her, but at the moment, she couldn’t find another path for herself. The Quan Rong people were still provoking at the border, and after the New Year would come the spring floods, requiring early precautions. There was also the trade exchange in early spring. The matters were endless, but at least she had things to do. Chu Qiao smiled bitterly, continuing to pack. This military camp was too oppressive; she didn’t want to stay a moment longer.
Yan Xun sat in the central command tent, with his generals standing on both sides. The atmosphere in the tent was somewhat oppressive, the officers downcast, without any of the joy that should accompany the approaching New Year.
“If war breaks out, with our current strength, our Second Army can handle 100,000 to 150,000 Da Xia troops. With a bit of luck, we can withstand half of Da Xia’s forces attacking continuously for two days. But the premise is that the commanding officer on the other side cannot be Zhuge Yue. He recently annihilated more than 2,000 of our men in Que Shu Valley, and the soldiers now deeply fear him. I’m concerned that low morale will affect the battle situation.”
Another person stepped forward and said, “Scouts report that Zhuge Yue is temporarily not with the army. He seems to have returned to Zhen Huang. The Da Xia Emperor is critically ill, and as Zhao Che’s ally, he should support Zhao Che’s ascension. But there are rumors that the Da Xia Emperor has already designated his successor, and Zhao Che is not on the list.”
“It’s almost New Year, Da Xia’s military morale is unstable, and Zhuge Yue is not present. If we take this opportunity to rush into Yan Ming Pass, it’s not impossible. Your Majesty, this is the battle plan formulated by our staff department.”
Yan Xun coldly glanced at the battle plan, which was colorfully decorated with elaborate patterns. It talked about cavalry leading and shield soldiers following, but after all the verbosity, it was just a frontal hard attack with flank support tactics. He frowned, looking at the commander in his thirties, coldly asking, “Is this the battle plan your staff department produced after working day and night for over ten days?”
The man was immediately alarmed, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he stammered, “We analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of both armies, researched…”
“Enough.” Yan Xun rudely interrupted him, then continued, “Is there anything substantial to report?”
Seeing Yan Xun in such a bad mood, who would dare to continue speaking tactlessly? Soon, everyone in the tent withdrew one by one, leaving only Yan Xun sitting there, his face darkened with a frown.
However, a moment later, a figure suddenly walked in, falling to his knees with a thud, lowering his voice to say, “Mission accomplished, I have important intelligence to report to Your Majesty.”
The afternoon light was somewhat dazzling, illuminating a bright red cloud on the corner of the person’s clothes. That had once been the military flag insignia of the Southwestern Garrison, but now it had become the emblem of the Xiu Li Army.
That day, Yan Xun didn’t eat dinner. He summoned his trusted confidants overnight and led five thousand imperial guards away from the headquarters, without even saying goodbye to Chu Qiao.
As the horse hooves left the camp gate, the Remnant Red sword on Chu Qiao’s desk suddenly emitted a muffled hum. Chu Qiao turned her head in confusion, but could only see a wisp of smoke rising from the incense burner.
She vaguely felt her heart beating heavily, thumping loudly. She picked up the teacup and took a sip, the cold tea flowing down her burning throat, but it couldn’t extinguish the inexplicable panic in her heart.
What was happening? She frowned slightly. Outside, heavy snow was falling, the world a desolate expanse.