Winter came early that year. Snow fell in September, a light layer, like small white flowers blooming among spring pastures.

The Da Xia army retreated once again. This was already the third day of their siege. The expected large-scale assault had not come as scheduled. Zhao Yao cautiously surrounded Longyin Pass, blocking Chu Qiao’s intended advance. His thoughts must have been quite complex—fearing this was a trap set by Yan Bei, yet also fearing that if the rift between Yan Xun and Chu Qiao was real, he might miss the opportunity to kill her. After all, rumors of discord between Yan Xun and Chu Qiao had been circulating for the past two years. Zhao Yao couldn’t have remained completely uninformed.

At night, the strong wind swept past. Chu Qiao stood on a high mound, gazing at the devastated battlefield. The night breeze lifted her enchanting long hair, like a group of butterflies dancing in the wind.

The war had raged for three full years. Longyin Pass was built several zhang higher than Yanming Pass. The vast plain between the two armies was desolate. The autumn grass grew as high as one’s waist. White frost and snow fell on the grass, and when the autumn wind passed, the grass rustled, like white waves that reflected a silvery glow under the moonlight, beautifully dazzling. A flock of crows flew overhead, stirring up a fine snow mist. One crow’s sharp talons swept lightly over the grass, effortlessly picking up an object that flashed white for an instant before vanishing.

Although it was just a glimpse, Chu Qiao could already tell what it was. Her gaze once again fell upon the white grass waves before her. A sense of sadness and disgust slowly rose from the depths of her heart. How many young bones were buried beneath these countless swaying tendrils?

War, like a man-eating giant mouth, bloodily devoured countless vibrant lives. The desolate wind of chaotic times blew across the eaves of broken homes, leaving a howling sound like the mournful wails of lonely souls from the underworld. And was she also an executioner at the edge of this world-destroying blade?

“A Chu…” In the darkness, it seemed as if a deep voice was calling softly: “A Chu…”

It was the voice she had heard during more than two thousand nights past. The young man would nestle beside her, pull up her blanket, and softly ask: “A Chu, are you cold?”

In those days, cold winds whistled, penetrating through window paper. Outside, the cold moon was like frost, casting a pale light on the ground.

Birds flew across, and evening snow-covered thousands of miles.

Perhaps a person’s life is just a game of chess that cannot be fully understood. The path ahead is unclear, with obstacles on all sides. You don’t know where to place your pieces, or where to withdraw. Once the game begins, you must strive to continue, but in the end, despite your best efforts, you might find yourself further from victory.

She slowly closed her eyes. Mountains and rivers crossed through her mind. In that daze, she seemed to see the faces of so many people: the upright and gentle Master Wu, the calm and wise Lady Yu, the lively and clever Lingxi, the kind and honest Little He, Xue Zhiyuan who died to sound a warning, Wen Yang who was executed for protecting the army flag, and Feng Ting, Murong, Wu Danyu who was shot by countless arrows as he charged alone into the enemy camp swinging his war blade, the living and dead Xiuli soldiers, countless people from Shangzhen, Huihui, and Beishuo, and even Cao Mengtong who committed suicide to atone for her sins, and those stubborn Da Tong elders…

A lone and weak force, without food or supplies, in the bitter cold, leading thousands of unarmed civilians. Time trickled away moment by moment. The enemy’s iron hooves gradually lost patience. Children cried from hunger. Winter was approaching, and snow would soon cover this vast land.

Chu Qiao raised her head to look at the empty sky, vaguely seeming to see another pair of eyes—eyes that had forever sunk into the deep icy sea. They gazed at her silently, having shed their former intensity, anger, and cold mockery, leaving only a pool of peaceful understanding, repeatedly saying: Live on…

I know.

Chu Qiao slightly curved her lips, smiling softly at the empty sky, saying quietly: “I will always persevere.”

She turned back, looking at the undulating camps, and said quietly: “I will always protect you all.”

In the autumn of the 77th and 78th years of the Bai Cang Era, at Longyin Pass, the Da Xia army completed the first encirclement in history. Nearly one hundred and thirty thousand troops surrounded Longyin Pass from all directions, making it impenetrable. Various long-range attack weapons were continuously transported there. It was foreseeable that a battle with a vastly unequal balance of power would soon begin.

Although Zhao Yao was once again facing Chu Qiao, who had defeated him twice before at Chidu and Beishuo, he was not worried this time. First, Longyin Pass was close to Yanming Pass, and he had prepared ample reserve legions. If he discovered it was a trap, he could retreat to the city with ease. Second, Chu Qiao had no fortress to defend this time, and no arrows to use. With the Xiuli Army’s five thousand light cavalry and a group of elderly, weak, sick, and disabled facing his one hundred thousand heavy-armored troops head-on in the plains, it would be suicide. Third, yesterday, Yan Bei’s scouts finally sent back news that seven days ago, Yan Xun and Chu Qiao had fought a major battle outside Beishuo City, with over ten thousand casualties. Now, the Da Tong backbone in Yan Bei was almost completely dead, with only Chu Qiao remaining. If such a situation was still a trap, then he could only say that Yan Xun was too ruthless and brilliant, beyond what ordinary people could resist.

On the morning of September 18th, just as dawn broke, thick fog enveloped everything. Suddenly, the clanging sound of war drums and military horns arose, like lightning splitting the sky, fiercely piercing the most vulnerable hearts of the Xiuli Army and the civilians.

The morning sunlight penetrated the white mist, casting golden shadows on the vast wilderness. Da Xia’s iron-gray armor was like a vast ocean spreading to the edge of the plain. Heavy footsteps trod on the ground, with deafening sounds that seemed to climb up from the soles of feet to the spine. The civilians let out panicked screams. They huddled closely together, shrinking as they looked at the vastness before them. Their small group compared to the crowd opposite was like a speck of dust.

“My God!” someone exclaimed softly. “What is that? Is it an avalanche?”

“Ready!” A sharp voice suddenly sounded from the opposite camp. Immediately after, rows of infantry passed through the front line of cavalry, knelt on the ground, and prepared for the assault.

“Throw!”

“Swoosh!”

Long spears pierced through the sky, drawing semicircles as they descended from above. A flock of birds happened to be passing by and was instantly pierced by the dense rain of spears. Blood spilled from midair, feathers flying. The civilians’ mouths were just wide open in terror, not yet having time to scream in fear when they saw the sky filled with spears stabbing toward them.

Piercing wails instantly soared to the clouds, like a hopeless dirge rising to the sky. War horses neighed in unison, roaring like ambushed beasts.

“All troops, form ranks! Charge!”

Amid the bloody storm, Chu Qiao sat on horseback, raising her silver war blade, leading the charge. The five thousand Xiuli soldiers, seeing this, followed behind her in orderly formation without hesitation or lingering. Not one person hesitated, not one person faltered, even though fear and timidity showed on the young soldiers’ faces. But they did not shrink back or cower.

He Xiao, protecting Chu Qiao’s side, shouted fiercely: “Brothers, don’t let them get one step closer to the civilians!”

“Fight to the death!”

The deafening battle cry rose, making one’s blood boil.

On the opposite side was a vast ocean. Their five thousand people charging forward were like a small wave, seemingly rushing headlong into suicide.

Everyone was stunned—the despairing, screaming Yan Bei civilians, the Yan Bei army watching the spectacle from Longyin Pass, the elite soldiers and commanders of Da Xia, including Zhao Yao. No one could have imagined that Chu Qiao, with so few people, would dare to directly and proactively charge Zhao Yao’s army of one hundred thousand. The opposing weapons were like a sea, like the cold realm of ghosts. At that moment, everyone understood. This was an open plain; Chu Qiao had no terrain advantage. Letting Da Xia troops reach the pass would only drag the civilians into the battlefield. Her choice was to protect the innocent women and children behind her.

Zhao Yao trembled slightly. His gaze became somewhat dazed as he watched the approaching Xiuli Army waving their war blades, and the girl in blue fur leading the charge. His blood gradually began to boil.

“Soldiers! Is your courage not even equal to that of a woman?” the Da Xia commander shouted. The black ocean immediately let out a deafening roar.

“All troops attack! Charge!”

“Kill the enemy!” The orderly charge horn suddenly sounded. Iron-gray battle robes danced in the wind. The soldiers charged forward, like an angry ocean that had broken through a dam, creating a surging breach, sweeping forward in overwhelming numbers.

“Spread out! Form ranks!”

Chu Qiao issued the military order. However, the Xiuli Army’s “forming ranks” was simply to stretch into a long horizontal line facing the Da Xia army. The line was so long, with five thousand people shoulder to shoulder, winding and continuous, protecting the entire Longyin Pass behind them. The soldiers wore black armor with fiery red cloud emblems on their shoulders, gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight. They held their war blades diagonally across their bodies, controlling their horses with their legs, looking at the dust-rolling cavalry formation opposite them, their expressions as calm as silent stones.

This was simply insane suicide!

The Da Xia troops drew closer and closer. Dust filled the air. Closer and closer, until one could smell the breath from the horses’ nostrils. Finally, with a “boom,” the two armies collided violently. A sudden storm arose. Flesh and blade crashed together with a thunderous impact. The sound of weapons clashing echoed in the ears. Waves of attacks came one after another. Blades flashed, blood splattered. The fragile defensive line seemed to be struck by a giant stone. Broken limbs and blood were what remained after the muffled shock wave.

Close combat was as sharp as a terrifying night. Blood blurred the soldiers’ eyes. Layers of corpses piled up on the ground. Ears were buzzing with the sounds of hoofbeats, shouts, screams, curses, and charges, forming a symphony at the ear. War blades clashed together, emitting a fiery light. The wounded no longer moaned. Battle made them forget their bodily pain. The ground was a mess, slippery with blood and severed limbs mixed with yesterday’s melted snow—like a bowl of red mud. War blades were nicked, and long spears broke. Eyes were covered with blood, unable to see the path and figures ahead. All thoughts remained focused on a single belief: Kill, kill, kill! Continuously hacking, killing until the body’s last breath. The young woman’s words kept echoing in the soldiers’ ears: Whoever lets the enemy break through their line will be a sinner to the Xiuli Army!

If there were no weapons left, then pounce and bite through the enemy’s neck. If there was no war horse, grab their horse’s legs and drag them down as well.

The battle proceeded with a cruelty and ferocity that was appalling. He Xiao removed his cumbersome armor, swinging his blade to cut off half of a Da Xia soldier’s head. Bright red blood and white brain matter sprayed all over his face. The man, undisturbed, continued to look for his next target. The Da Xia soldiers were terrified by his fearless demeanor. They shrank back, wanting to leave his line.

The individual combat ability of the Xiuli soldiers was abnormally strong. Standing there, they were like machines that never tired. With chests pierced, thighs stabbed, and arms slashed, they could still fight on, bleeding without concern. One soldier had his stomach pierced, intestines hanging from his waistband like cotton, but he was still roaring as he charged forward.

The Da Xia soldiers were shocked. Those were not humans. Indeed, they were no longer human. They were a group of madmen, a group of demons. Zhao Yao gritted his teeth in hatred. Again, it was like this. It seemed to always be like this. He did not understand what magic that woman possessed, what made those soldiers so fearless of death. Having such fierce warriors was the unattainable dream of all generals. Money couldn’t do it, power couldn’t do it, intimidation couldn’t do it, yet she had achieved it effortlessly.

The war drums sounded one after another. One legion after another silently charged forward, entering the bloody battlefield. Blood flowed across the plain. The muddy ground could no longer absorb the endless nourishment. Blood gathered into small streams on the ground, winding beneath human feet. The Da Xia officers were puzzled. Even if the opposing side were truly an iron wall, it should have been breached by now. Why did that defensive line, which seemed about to collapse at any moment, still not fall?

Three vanguard heavy cavalry units had been annihilated, and five infantry battalions had been devastated. In front of that defensive line, corpses piled over three feet high, like a low wall. From morning to noon, the battle showed no sign of concluding, and that defensive line had transformed from teetering on the brink to becoming ever more solid. Zhao Yao knew that the Da Xia army was losing morale. Faced with such a crazed, suicidal attack, even he felt his temples throbbing.

The sky was gloomy. The sun was gradually swallowed by dark clouds as if it too could not bear to witness the desperate slaughter below.

Zhao Yao even wondered if this was Yan Bei’s ruse. Had they deliberately sent out such elite forces to make him complacent and lure him away from the pass, then destroy his heavy-armored troops? But if so, why had no one from inside the pass come to support them yet?

Zhao Yao couldn’t understand, but his fighting spirit was receding layer by layer. Facing the Xiuli Army with their backs to the wall, Zhao Yao gradually became fearful. Even if he won, what would he gain? The corpses of five thousand Xiuli soldiers? This was not a battle that could be easily won. Killing Chu Qiao and eliminating Yan Bei’s most thorny enemy—this idea had now become less fervent.

In the last moment before the sunlight retreated, Da Xia’s retreat horn finally sounded slowly. The Da Xia soldiers cheered in unison, then withdrew like the tide.

As for the Xiuli Army, no one had the strength to continue pursuing it. Almost at the moment the Da Xia army returned to their outer camp, the Xiuli soldiers collectively collapsed, like a dam that had exhausted its last bit of strength.

Zhao Yao quickly and decisively observed this situation. So he immediately turned his horse around and ordered the messenger to sound the charge horn again. He rode alone in the opposite direction from his soldiers, shouting: “Soldiers, charge with me!”

The Da Xia soldiers looked back in panic, only to discover that the battle line that had blocked them like a wall of bronze and iron was no longer there. Some clever, experienced soldiers immediately understood. The Xiuli Army, facing an enemy twenty times their size, had already reached the end of their strength. Now, seeing the Da Xia retreat, they had finally collapsed.

This was a once-in-a-thousand-year opportunity!

So the great army collectively turned their horses around, following behind Zhao Yao, charging forward once more.

“All troops, assemble!”

In the cold northern wind, a clear, calm voice slowly rose. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it reached the ears of everyone clearly.

Then, just as all the Da Xia soldiers were rubbing their eyes in disbelief, behind that wall of corpses, figures like ghosts, swaying and staggering, began to rise one by one. Their clothes were tattered, their faces pale, their appearances uneven, their war blades all notched. They dragged their exhausted bodies forward, standing in their original positions, shoulder to shoulder, one, two, three, ten, a hundred, a thousand…

Everything seemed like a replica of the morning’s image. Soldiers covered in blood stood up again, forming a long battle line, swaying as if a breath could knock them down. But when they stood together, their bodies suddenly straightened, like a forest made of stone. That defensive line once again became as solid as a mountain. He Xiao stood at the front, brandishing his war blade fiercely as a thousand voices shouted in unison: “Fight for freedom!”

Like thunder rolling across flat ground, everything was shocked. Without military horns, without war drums, the Da Xia soldiers involuntarily stopped. A terrible despair arose in people’s hearts: “We will not win.”

No one knew who first had this thought, but it quickly spread throughout the army through their eyes. Facing those enemies with tattered clothes and covered in blood, the Da Xia soldiers almost simultaneously felt terrible fear and intense respect.

Zhao Yao stood at the front of the formation, his face as calm as water. He looked at the young woman now covered in blood, at her figure like a javelin, and genuine admiration surged forth. Finally, Zhao Yao dismounted, removed his helmet, and before the hundred thousand troops of Da Xia, before the five thousand living and dead Xiuli soldiers, before tens of thousands of Yan Bei civilians, before countless pairs of eyes inside Longyin Pass, he deeply, deeply bent his noble waist!

The Da Xia soldiers followed this action. They bowed deeply to the enemy army they had once most despised as traitors, then almost in unison repeated the enemy’s battle cry: “Fight for freedom!”

The Da Xia army departed with a roar, leaving the land desolate and somber. The autumn wind swept across the blood-stained prairie. Everything seemed unreal, like a great dream.

No soldier fell again. They still stood in place, as if afraid Da Xia might turn back and attack again.

Chu Qiao dragged her heavy war blade forward, her posture straight. Her steps were heavy, her face as pale as snow. Blood had dyed her cyan fur coat red, though it was unclear whether it was her blood or someone else’s. The soldiers all watched her, seemingly disbelieving that the Da Xia army had retreated like this. She stood there as the wind blew through her disheveled hair, sweeping across her beautiful eyebrows and face. Her voice was already hoarse, her eye sockets slightly reddened. Like Zhao Yao, she bowed deeply to her army and said solemnly, each word distinct: “Soldiers, you have won.”

A broken sob suddenly came from behind, like an ocean breaking through a dam, growing louder and louder. It was the civilians they had protected, who now, with tears streaming down their faces, rushed forward.

The Xiuli Army, led by He Xiao, all bowed back to her in unison, their resonant voices merging into one: “The Lady has worked hard.”

“You have all worked hard.”

Dark clouds covered the sun overhead. Chu Qiao stood up, two lines of clear tears flowing silently down her face.

The Da Xia army did not charge again, but neither did they open the encirclement to let them leave. The cold siege finally began. At this moment, Zhao Yao had come to believe in the accuracy of the news: Chu Qiao had indeed fallen out with Yan Xun. They wanted to leave Yan Bei, but the gates of Longyin Pass would not open for them. Apart from going south along the waterway to Biantang through the Southern Border, they could only pass through his lines, and Yan Xun had completely blocked the Southern Border waterway.

He firmly believed all this was correct.

On September 20th, it began to snow. The snow wasn’t heavy at first, but it continued for two days. The Xiuli Army had almost consumed all their rations. If not for some civilians who had brought food, they might have already starved. All the tents in the army had been given to the elderly, weak, women, and children. Each tent was crammed with more than thirty people, but still, old people and children constantly froze to death in the night. There was no more medicine in the army. Wounded soldiers couldn’t even get a mouthful of warm water. Chu Qiao could only helplessly watch as cold and injuries took the lives of soldiers who had stood unwavering before the Da Xia army, and she could do nothing.

Whenever she saw soldiers dying one by one, saw young children crying and starving in the cold wind, she wanted nothing more than to rush back to Longyin Pass, kowtow to Yan Xun in apology, and beg him to save these innocent people.

She smiled helplessly, feeling not an ounce of strength in her body. Yan Xun was indeed the person in the world who best understood her weaknesses. He had probably calculated this all along. She wasn’t afraid of Da Xia, wasn’t afraid of war, wasn’t afraid of killing, wasn’t afraid of dying. The only thing she feared was that those who loved her would sacrifice themselves for her in vain.

Over these two days, she had led her troops in four attacks, all to no avail. Zhao Yao maintained a steadfast defensive posture, neither coming out to meet them in battle nor responding to their attacks. Each time they charged, they were met with a dense rain of arrows, leaving dozens of innocent corpses.

On the evening of September 22nd, a blizzard descended and the temperature dropped sharply. The cold wind cut to the bone. In just half a night, more than fifty wounded soldiers and over eighty civilians froze to death. The civilians finally couldn’t bear it. A woman in her forties suddenly left the army and ran toward Longyin Pass, calling for the gates to be opened. Like a flood, more people followed, leaving the Xiuli Army’s tents. They cried loudly in the cold wind, staggering toward Longyin Pass.

In a matter of life and death, the fear of death in people’s hearts finally overcame their conscience. They abandoned the force that had fought to protect them and rushed toward their homeland.

The Xiuli soldiers stood silently aside. No one spoke, no one stopped them. They watched silently as the crowd wept and collapsed, expressionlessly letting them leave.

The elderly man in his sixties ran to Chu Qiao, crying, holding a child who was barely breathing. His face was full of shame, he tried to say something to Chu Qiao but could only let out a few short sobs.

The child’s face was already pale blue. Chu Qiao knew that without warmth soon, he would likely die.

Her throat felt as if something was stuck in it. She felt no anger, no sadness, no hatred for their betrayal.

As a soldier, she couldn’t protect the people who supported her, could only watch them die innocently. She had nothing to say. She couldn’t bear to see the old man’s guilty eyes, because the guilt in her heart was even greater. She could only silently bow her head, wordlessly expressing her emotions.

I’m sorry.

On Longyin Pass, a brilliant array of lights gradually appeared. Below the pass, countless elderly, children, and women staggered forward. People were shouting for the gates to be opened, their voices carrying indescribable desperation and fear. After all, they were just ordinary civilians. Their only wish was to live, and occasionally they would have a bit of extravagant hope—that was to live a little better.

The snow grew heavier and heavier. The world was a blanket of white. The officer on the city wall shouted loudly: “Don’t come closer! Back! Back!”

But no one heeded him. His voice had already been drowned out by the chaotic crowd. The civilians wept as they laid on the city gate, beating it forcefully, shouting: “Open the gate! Open the gate! We are the people of Yan Bei, why won’t you open the gate?”

The cries pierced through the clouds. The soldiers of Longyin Pass were stunned. They had all clearly seen the battle two days before. At this moment, not one of them was willing to point their weapons at those who were once their comrades. Now, seeing these civilians, they were even more rooted to the spot, not knowing how to carry out their responsibilities as garrison troops.

“Open the gate!”

The civilians frantically struck the city gate. Someone fell, and those behind surged forward regardless, trampling the person into a paste.

Sobs and screams echoed across the wilderness. The world was desolately cold. Heavy snow fell, making everything vast and white.

“Back off! Or we’ll shoot arrows!”

The officer on the city wall shouted.

“Don’t shoot! We are ordinary civilians!”

“Please! Save my child!” The woman who had first run out knelt on the ground, raising high the swaddled infant who was no longer crying, weeping: “You don’t have to save me! But please, please save my child!”

“Open the gate! Open the gate! Let us in!”

…

“Lady Chu!” the garrison soldiers shouted from the wall. “Come back! If you don’t come in, we can’t open the city gate. The Emperor has decreed that as long as you’re willing to return, all will be forgiven!”

“Lady Chu! All will be forgiven!”

Hundreds of garrison soldiers shouted together, their voices like rolling thunder sweeping across the vast plain.

The civilians seemed to have found their savior. Someone suddenly turned around and knelt in the direction of the Xiuli Army. People wept:

“Lady! Go back!”

“Lady! Save us, go back!”

“Lady! Go back and apologize to His Majesty!”

“Lady!” The woman ran out from behind the crowd, tripped, and fell to the ground. The child in her arms was bumped and suddenly began to cry heart-rendingly, the sound more piercing than Da Xia’s military blades: “Lady, please, save my child! Lady, please, save my child!”

The world was so cold, pitch black. The Xiuli Army stood silently, looking at their commander.

Chu Qiao’s heart seemed to be torn into thousands of pieces. She bit her lower lip tightly, the taste of blood filling her mouth. Her hands were ice cold, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Yan Xun, Yan Xun, you calculated all this from the beginning, didn’t you?

You anticipated all this. At this moment, are you quietly waiting at Huolei Plain outside Beishuo Gate for me to return and kowtow to you an admission of guilt?

The screams around her came in waves. Thousands of civilians knelt at her feet, their heads touching the ground, weeping loudly to her. Just a few days ago, they had raised their fists to swear allegiance to her, shouting the slogan “Long live freedom.” But now, they were begging her, begging her to go back and admit her guilt to Yan Xun.

Reality was so cruel, yet so unavoidable.

Her eyes were dry, unable to shed tears anymore. A bitter taste surged within her chest. Fate had driven her to the edge of despair. It seemed that every step she took would result in her being battered and bloodied.

“Lady.”

He Xiao walked over, standing firmly behind her, looking at her with concern. In that gaze, one could vaguely see an ocean of pain and compassion.

“Lady…”

He wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know what to say. Everything was so absurd and ridiculous. The world was so vast, yet where could they go?

“He Xiao,”

Chu Qiao sighed softly, feeling as if the blood in her body had frozen all at once. She desperately wanted to die on the spot, yet still forced herself to issue a brief order: “Command the entire army, we…”

Just then, a sudden flurry of hoofbeats came from behind. The Xiuli soldiers quickly turned around to see the Da Xia battle flags approaching fiercely. Zhao Yao led his army, returning once again!

“Command the entire army! Follow me to resist the Da Xia enemy!”

For the first time in her life, Chu Qiao found the Da Xia army so endearing. She didn’t know if this thought was right or wrong. She just wanted to escape this place like an ostrich. Da Xia had attacked, and she could no longer consider anything else. She had to turn back to fight! But in her heart, she quietly thanked heaven for not letting her make that heart-wrenching decision at this moment, though she might pay a heavy price for it.

“Your Highness! The entire army is ready for attack.”

“No need!” Zhao Yao said lightly. “We’ll just make a circle and leave.”

“What?” His subordinate was slightly stunned and asked, “Why?”

Zhao Yao was silent for a long time. His gaze looked deeply into the thick darkness. After a while, he said softly: “We cannot let her return to Yan Bei.”

This back-and-forth battle continued for an entire night. Da Xia seemed to treat Longyin Pass as a playground, coming around for a circle now and then. Finally, when the sun dispersed the long night and the snow stopped, the retreat horn sounded.

Chu Qiao led her exhausted army back to the camp, only to see countless silent eyes of the civilians. Rows of corpses were neatly arranged in front of the army. Those lives that had been vibrant just yesterday now lay on the ground like fish out of water, lifeless. Snow covered their eyebrows and faces, forming small snow mounds.

Seeing the battlefield settle, gradually, people began to leave the camp, slowly departing. The flow of people gradually expanded, from a stream to a spring, from a spring to a small river, and then from a small river to a vast, dark ocean. They didn’t walk toward Longyin Pass, didn’t walk toward Yan Bei, but slowly headed toward Da Xia’s Yanming Pass.

“Come back!”

Ping An, standing beside Chu Qiao, suddenly shouted. He tried to pull back those people but was pushed down hard. Lying on the ground, he shouted: “Come back, all of you! Don’t go!”

But no one listened to him.

People gradually moved away. They walked up to Zhao Yao’s army, raising their hands high in surrender, repeatedly emphasizing that they were only civilians.

From Zhao Yao’s army, troops came out to make them kneel. Thousands of civilians knelt in unison. They raised their hands high, frantically kowtowing. From a distance, the sounds of suppressed weeping and the triumphant laughter of Da Xia soldiers carried over. The Xiuli soldiers stood stunned in place. Some silently wept, but they could say nothing. What should they say? Encourage those unarmed people to fight the enemy, or tell them that they would rescue them?

Snow fell from the sky once again. Chu Qiao’s heart was as cold as a stone beneath the ice. Her gaze was vacant. Battle flags fluttered, red clouds like fire. The world was desolate. The winner of the 77th and 78th years welcomed its arrival.