The north wind stirred up heavy snow, falling in profusion, obscuring the pale full moon. The flakes were as dense as goose feathers, making it nearly impossible to keep one’s eyes open.
The sky above the accumulated snow was pitch-black, occasionally pierced by the mournful cries of night owls. Their large black wings circled in the heavens above. From the air looking down, Zhenhuang City resembled a bright pearl in a vast glacier, dazzling and radiant. Yet at this moment, on the outskirts of this pearl, a group of raggedly dressed, emaciated ethnic minorities, utterly inconsistent with the prosperity and splendor of this flourishing era, were trudging with great difficulty.
The bone-chilling north wind penetrated the tattered single layer of clothing worn by these ethnic people, cutting like knives against their already purple-frozen skin. The gale suddenly howled fiercely, and the refugees huddled together to resist the biting cold. Without the protection of city walls and buildings, winter on the Red River Plateau became increasingly unbearable. The crying of an infant suddenly rose from the group, starting as a single voice before gradually spreading throughout the entire band.
A “swoosh” of a whip suddenly sounded, and the mounted commander approached with a grim expression, shouting sternly, “Silence, all of you!”
But how could those innocent infants obey his commands? The crying continued. The commander frowned, immediately rode into the crowd, bent down to snatch a baby from a young woman’s arms, held it high, and then violently smashed it to the ground with a thud!
“Ah!” A piercing scream suddenly rang out. The child’s mother cried out in alarm, dropping to her knees to embrace the child who no longer made a sound, and broke into loud, despairing sobs.
The commander’s gaze was fierce, sweeping over the faces of the ethnic refugees like a hawk. Silence fell wherever his eyes passed.
Under the pitch-black sky, only the sorrowful wailing of the young woman remained. The commander drew his sword and with a swish, severed the woman’s spine. Blood sprayed, splattering on the pale snow.
Chu Qiao’s breath instantly caught, her lips tightly clenched, her hands suddenly tensing as if to rush forward.
“Do you want to die?” The bright-eyed young man held her tightly, leaning close to her ear and saying in a low voice, “They are Wei clan troops, don’t act rashly.”
“We’ll stop here,” the commander in black armor and black fur said to his subordinates. The soldiers in iron helmets dismounted swiftly, drawing their sabers with a swish. With a yank of the ropes binding their feet, the refugees all fell to their knees.
The commander’s eyes were dark, his gaze sharp as a knife, his thin lips pressed into a straight line as he slowly uttered a single word: “Kill!”
The sound of blades slicing through the air rang out in perfect unison. The young soldiers’ faces were like iron, not even blinking. Dozens of heads immediately rolled onto the thick snow. Hot blood spurted from the severed necks, converging into a steaming stream, only to be instantly frozen by the cold air.
The child bit her lower lip tightly, hiding behind the snow slope as she watched this killing happening just steps away, her heart wrenched painfully. Her eyes were so bright, like brilliant stars, yet they flashed with such heavy light—fierce, angry, a rage that could engulf the heavens. Yan Xun’s hands were cold. Though he still held her tightly, there was an emotion flowing through his blood that made him almost afraid to turn and look directly into the child’s eyes. The small body under his arms radiated a heat that almost burned his hands.
He watched as the empire’s rulers repeatedly raised their butcher’s knives over the heads of these commoners, feeling that they were not cutting off heads but his own beliefs. Those stubborn convictions that had existed in his heart for so many years were being peeled away layer by layer, leaving him exposed and with nowhere to hide his shame.
As the sabers fell and blood splattered, those ethnic commoners remained calm, showing not the slightest fear in the face of death. Chu Qiao saw that this was not numbness born of extreme fear, nor despair from having no hope, nor self-abandonment from knowing there was no chance of survival. It was a kind of stubborn defiance, a bone-deep hatred. Everyone was quiet, with no crying or cursing. Even the children in the old people’s arms were well-behaved. They opened their eyes, watching as their people died one by one under the executioners’ blades. Their eyes were bright but churning with tremendous waves beneath.
It was a hatred that would make even the heavenly gods tremble, a vengefulness that would make the underworld demons step back.
The anger and hatred suppressed in the depths of her heart gradually grew. The child’s fists were clenched tightly, like a blood-thirsty wolf cub.
Just then, the sound of urgent hoofbeats suddenly came from the distance, along with a man’s urgent, angry shout: “Stop! All of you, stop!”
A snow-white warhorse galloped swiftly closer. The young man leaped from his mount, frantically whipping the hands of the sword-wielding soldiers, standing before the refugees, and shouting angrily at the commander: “Mu He, what are you doing?”
“Major Shu Ye, I am carrying out military orders to execute the rebels,” the commander, upon seeing the man, frowned slightly but still dismounted and bowed respectfully, speaking in a deep voice.
“Rebels?” Shu Ye, with his sword-like eyebrows extending to his temples, angrily pointed at the elderly, weak, women, and children on the ground, shouting fiercely, “Who are the rebels? These people? Who gave you the authority, who allowed you to do this?”
Mu He’s expression remained unchanged, like a stubborn stone: “Major, these are orders from the Golden Palace, requested personally by your uncle, Lord Wei. The document was jointly signed by the Council of Elders, with a red-inked approval from your brother, the Metropolitan Governor. It was a decision made after collective deliberation by all the clan heads of the Wei clan. I am merely following orders.”
Shu Ye was immediately stunned. He turned around in confusion, his gaze passing over the faces of the refugees one by one. These ethnic commoners, who hadn’t even furrowed their brows in the face of death, suddenly changed their expressions upon seeing Shu Ye. They could no longer conceal the anger in their eyes. An old woman suddenly stood up, ignoring the soldiers on either side and rushed forward, cursing loudly: “You liar! Shameless betrayer! The heavenly gods will punish you!”
A long blade suddenly chopped down, crashing into the woman’s waist. Blood poured from the blood groove of the battle sword. The woman’s waist was almost severed in two, and her body fell limply to the ground. But she still used her last strength to spit a mouthful of bloody phlegm on Shu Ye’s white robe, cursing with a hideous smile: “Even as a ghost… even as a ghost I won’t… won’t… forgive…”
Shu Ye’s face turned ashen. The disgusting phlegm hung on the hem of his robe, but he made no move to wipe it away. He just pressed his lips together tightly, looking at the mess of corpses and the countless eyes filled with hatred.
“Major,” Mu He sighed, stepping forward and saying in a deep voice, “The empire has no spare money to feed these people, and the Council of Elders will not fund housing for them. You are a son of the Wei family, you must respect the family’s wishes and uphold the family’s interests.”
Tremendous waves crashed into Shu Ye’s chest. His eyes were bloodshot, and he remained silent. Mu He frowned, waved to the soldiers, and gave a slight nod. The soldiers, following orders, immediately raised their battle swords to continue the slaughter.
“Bad men!” A clear voice suddenly rang out. From the back of the crowd, a small face suddenly lifted from its mother’s embrace. There were no tear stains on the face, but the eyes were red, and the child shouted loudly: “Liar, you said you would bring us to the capital to live in houses that don’t leak, you said everyone would have enough to eat and wear warm clothes, you said…”
A fierce arrow shot out instantly. General Mu He’s aim was precise, ending in a moment the words about to come from the child’s mouth. The arrow entered through the mouth and bloodily exited through the back of the head!
“Execute them!” Mu He drew his battle sword and shouted angrily.
“Stop!”
The young major suddenly collapsed under the child’s piercing words, rushing forward regardless of consequences, pushing away two soldiers. Mu He shouted angrily, “Restrain the Major!” Several soldiers immediately ran forward, using their combat skills to firmly restrain Shu Ye.
The inhuman slaughter immediately began. Blood flowed, mixing with the snow into bloody mud. From above came the piercing screams of eagles and vultures, adding to the atmosphere of death in this horrific massacre. A huge pit was dug, and over a thousand lifeless bodies were thrown in. Sand and soil were quickly filled in, and soldiers rode their horses back and forth over it, trampling it down. Goose feather-like heavy snow fell, instantly covering the red blood on the ground, along with those unspeakable crimes and the ugliness of lost humanity, all deeply buried.
The young, handsome, aristocratic, high-ranking noble son of Zhenhuang Imperial City lost his composure in front of his subordinates, losing his rationality for a group of low-status commoners.
“Major,” Mu He stepped forward, looking at the man staring blankly at the snow, and said in a deep voice, “You shouldn’t be like this. They are of an inferior race, with base blood flowing in their veins. You shouldn’t defy Lord Wei for their sake. Your uncle has high expectations for you. Without you, the Wei clan’s offspring in the Hall of Generals are leaderless. We are all waiting for your return.”
Seeing no response from the major, Mu He sighed lightly and led the troops away. The warhorses galloped, and soon, no trace of them could be seen in the wilderness.
The man stood there for a long time. Heavy snow fell all around. This Lantern Festival was indeed so cold.
The two children hiding behind the snow slope were shocked to see the high-born Wei clan major suddenly kneel before the vast land, bowing heavily toward where those lost souls lay, then mount his horse and gallop away decisively.
After a long while, the heavy snow showed no sign of stopping. The child moved her already frozen hands and feet, staggering forward.
“What are you doing?” Yan Xun was startled, standing up in surprise.
The child turned around, her face calm, but her eyes flashing with sharp, cold light: “I am of an inferior race, with base blood flowing in my veins. You and I should not stand together. Since we don’t walk the same path, we might as well part ways now.”
The cold moon was desolate. The child’s figure was so small, but as Yan Xun watched from a distance, he suddenly felt that her straight back could support this decaying world. The snow fell like cotton, and a line of footprints in the snow gradually extended, heading straight toward the heart of the Great Xia Empire.