The sky was a dull gray as the torrential rain continued to fall.

Near the Han River, the reeds grew as tall as a person. Thunder rolled across the water’s surface from west to east, followed by a lightning bolt that struck down a hundred-year-old elm tree inside Han River Pass. Two guards from the Yan Bei army were injured. In the eastern part of the city, a residence had its crossbeam split, killing all seven family members as they slept, their blood and brains splattering everywhere.

This was the first bloodshed in the battle of Han River Pass. Though there had been no fighting or sword clashes, it was enough to push the already tense atmosphere to the breaking point. The residents of Han River Pass stayed hidden in their homes, with no one daring to venture outside even during daylight. Rain poured down on the empty streets where not a soul could be seen. Only some withered yellow grass was blown by the wind, too wet to fly far—as soon as it raised its head, it was beaten back down by raindrops.

The heavy rain had continued for eleven consecutive days. The water level of the Han River rose frantically. The weather was unusual—flocks of birds flew north, and at night one could faintly hear the howls of lone wolves from the wilderness, like funeral bells calling for the dead. Some knowledgeable elders recalled that during the seventh year of Emperor Xiaozong’s reign, there had been similar continuous downpours and thunder. That summer, Bian Tang’s General Xue Li led an army of 400,000 to attack Great Xia. Under these same weather conditions, they crossed the Han River, advanced northward with unstoppable momentum, breached White Iris Pass, and pushed to the heartland of Great Xia. However, just when all of Bian Tang was expectantly waiting, believing that Great Tang was about to avenge its humiliation and reclaim lost territory, the Lion King of Yan Bei suddenly deployed his troops, defeated the Tang army, and personally beheaded the ever-victorious General Xue Li, once again crushing Great Tang’s ambitions for supremacy.

That year, blood had stained the Crimson River red, flowing into the Han River. Corpses floating on the water’s surface stretched for dozens of miles. Wild dogs and wolves leaped into the river, standing on layers of corpses as if on solid ground without sinking, their eyes bloodshot from feeding.

Decades had passed, but that brutal battle still echoed in the elders’ memories. Now, the Lion King of Yan Bei had been dead for many years, and moss and reeds grew thickly over General Xue Li’s tomb. Bian Tang had weakened, and Great Xia was torn by internal strife. With everything changed, Yan Bei’s eagle banner once again flew over White Iris Pass and wound its way to the top of Han River’s walls.

On the seventh day of the fifth month, Yan Xun, at the request of Great Tang’s Princess Jingan, personally led troops to garrison Han River Pass, resisting the Elegant Army coming to aid from thousands of miles away, and protecting the advantageous battle situation east of Han River Pass. Just one day later, Chu Qiao’s Elegant Army appeared in Wei Liao County on the western side of Han River Pass. Wei Liao, a small city that had previously received little attention, quickly rose to fame, drawing the gaze of all Bian Tang and even the entire Ximeng continent. White banners with red clouds were raised on the short city towers, and Chu Qiao personally donned armor to review the troops and administer oaths. Various Tang army units that had been scattered west of Han River Pass rushed to join upon hearing the news. Nobles loyal to the royal family also sent supplies and reinforcements. Within three days, the Elegant Army’s forces had expanded to 90,000 and continued to grow.

This was the first formal banner of rebellion raised within Bian Tang since Princess Jingan’s lightning-fast coup, and it faced the Princess’s powerful ally—the Yan Bei army.

An unprecedented large-scale war was imminent. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the coming blood rain.

On the fourteenth day of the fifth month, the torrential rain suddenly stopped. The Han River’s water level remained at an alarming height. After six consecutive days of standoff, both sides’ patience had reached a dangerous threshold. Although commanders on both sides understood the necessity of the standoff, having tens of thousands of troops at such proximity without engagement was extremely dangerous. A tense atmosphere hung over both camps; the slightest oversight could lead to mutiny.

Though Chu Qiao and Yan Xun had made thorough preparations, with scouts from both sides moving back and forth like the wind, and battle plans revised repeatedly, they had independently arrived at similar directions and locations for combat. Still, the arrival of the first battle caused a moment of panic for both.

On the afternoon of the fourteenth, Magistrate Mo Xu of Wuling County had just crossed the Heyuan Plain. He was escorting fifty thousand piculs of supplies, carefully traversing mountains and plains, slipping through layers of danger zones, and heading toward Chu Qiao’s Wei Liao headquarters.

Born and raised in Tang, his ancestors had followed the first Tang king in campaigns and been awarded high positions. His family had once included marquises and ministers, but over generations, the Mo family’s glory had faded. Now, in this time of national crisis, the seventy-year-old Magistrate Mo personally led troops to escort supplies, hoping to contribute to Chu Qiao’s restoration army.

However, just as they reached the Iron Line River, they unexpectedly encountered a small group of Yan Bei levee workers. Iron Line River was a tributary of the Han River with unstable embankments, so Yan Xun sent three thousand infantry to repair this section of the levee to prevent flooding downstream at the main camp. Unexpectedly, despite Magistrate Mo’s caution, they ran straight into these troops. War broke out immediately. The shouts of battle alerted scouts in the vicinity, and within half an hour, troops from both sides arrived, throwing the situation into chaos.

When Chu Qiao received the news, she was planning the next day’s strategic routes in the staff headquarters. Even someone as calm as she was momentarily stunned by this sudden information.

A Tang army commander frowned and said, “Your Highness, we should immediately send people to help them retreat. We haven’t made any preparations, and Iron Line River is close to the Yan Bei army’s main camp—we must be cautious.”

Hearing this, Chu Qiao shook her head and said gravely, “We haven’t prepared, but has Yan Bei? From the intelligence, this battle is completely unexpected—neither we nor Yan Bei had any preparation.”

“But…”

“He Qi, take twenty thousand infantry immediately to Iron Line River. Our first battle depends on you to launch it.”

He Qi was stunned and asked, “Twenty thousand infantry?”

Chu Qiao nodded, “Yes.”

“But sir, most of our troops are cavalry and heavy armor infantry. We have fewer than eight thousand infantry.”

“Then dismount. Remember, each person must carry at least three battle sabers. Remove heavy armor; light armor will suffice.”

He Qi frowned, but seeing that Chu Qiao was not joking, he nodded in agreement, strapped on his battle saber, and left.

After He Qi departed, the Tang army commander asked, “Your Highness, are twenty thousand enough? Why not send more troops? Iron Line River is close to the Yan Bei army’s main camp, and they can reinforce much faster than we can.”

Chu Qiao slowly shook her head, her eyes deep and sharp, saying quietly, “No need. Twenty thousand is enough.”

The sound of hooves like muffled thunder approached, making the ground tremble slightly. Huge formations assembled instantly, and before anyone could see clearly, they had drawn their battle sabers and charged forward like tigers and wolves.

Days of torrential rain had turned the already uneven ground into a mess. Mud greatly restricted the movement of war horses. Both sides’ forces clashed together, with soldiers’ bodies intermingling at the front. Battle sabers swung wildly, and the sound of impact was like sudden thunder on level ground.

The seventy-year-old Magistrate Mo, with his completely white hair and beard, sat on horseback with a flushed face, gripping his battle saber. His guard pulled at his horse’s reins, shouting “Magistrate, flee quickly,” but was knocked to the ground by Mo’s punch. The elderly magistrate raised his great saber, shouting “Kill the enemy for the country,” spurring his horse forward, leading by example. Though struck by more than ten arrows, he did not retreat. His subordinates followed behind him, including his son, his thirty-something grandson, and his great-grandson who was not yet sixteen.

By the time He Qi arrived with his troops, the battle was nearing its end. The officials and soldiers of Wuling County, inspired by their leader’s courage, had resisted several thousand enemy cavalry with just a few thousand men, but they were now at the end of their strength. He Qi wasted no time and led his men straight into battle. After the fighting, the Iron Line River had become half a quagmire. War horses were stuck deep in the mud, and Yan Bei’s heavy armored cavalry had no choice but to dismount and engage He Qi’s infantry with sabers. However, the advantage of heavily armored cavalry was in charging across plains; fighting on muddy ground with swords severely limited their mobility due to their heavy armor.

Men and horses fell, with battle cries and screams mixing. The scene was like a boiling pot of porridge, with flashing blades, a murderous aura, clouds blocking the sun, birds wailing in grief, and a blood-red light filling the space between heaven and earth.

The Yan Bei army finally realized their limitations. Some clever soldiers tried to remove their heavy armor, but in such urgent circumstances, how could they afford the slightest distraction? Before one could remove his cloak, a lethal blade had already severed his neck.

Yan Xun sat in the central military tent. Because Iron Line River was close to his main camp, his subordinates were the first to receive news of the battle there. However, for this very reason, when Yan Xun received the battle report, some guards who heard the fighting thought the camp was under attack and had already quickly dispatched troops to support it.

By the time he wanted to recall those cavalry, forces from both sides were already mixed in combat.

At first, the commanders throughout the camp mocked the Elegant Army for overestimating themselves, but soon, as battle reports came in one after another, their expressions grew increasingly grim. Some requested permission to send light infantry reinforcements, but Yan Xun coldly shook his head.

It was too late. Iron Line River was a small alluvial area, with only that much space, yet now nearly fifty thousand troops were crowded there, packed person against person. Sending more reinforcements now would only result in needless sacrifice.

However, they couldn’t just let it go either. This was the first battle in the Han River standoff. Losing would severely impact morale and directly affect future battles.

Yan Xun immediately issued orders: the entire army was to prepare, march on Wei Liao, and be ready for a frontal assault.

Deep in the night, a reddish moon rose from behind a bare hillside. Misty vapors shrouded the Han River. A young Yan Bei army staff officer repeatedly advised that their side was defending and should simply garrison Han River Pass rather than attacking proactively and wasting military strength.

At first, Yan Xun ignored him, but eventually, unable to bear the annoyance, he directly ordered his guards to bind the officer and lock him in the cellar. Without that irritating voice, he could finally calm down and quietly observe this not-so-imposing pass.

That staff officer didn’t understand, many people didn’t understand—perhaps even many of his generals who had followed him north and south might not understand his current intentions.

Indeed, the Elegant Army had come under the banner of defending the imperial capital. To reach the Tang capital and defeat Princess Jingan who was besieging it, they had to pass through Han River Pass. This meant that as long as he held Han River Pass, there would inevitably be a battle with the Elegant Army. And as the defending side, the price paid would be far less than that of the attacking side.

But now he was leading troops in a proactive attack, becoming the aggressor, which many might find puzzling.

Yet only he understood his current situation. Han River Pass was Bian Tang’s first major city and the most populous city on the Ximeng continent, covering a vast area with a population of up to a million. The reason he had been able to occupy this place easily without any resistance was firstly because of his notorious reputation for unleashing bandits into Great Xia and ruthlessly slaughtering people, and secondly because so far, the Yan Bei army had never been defeated. Added to this was his presence, which had intimidated these people. He knew that with just his and Princess Jingan’s strength, it was impossible to completely defeat Bian Tang’s armed forces. Back then, King Luo of Meishan had planned for more than a decade but still lost to Li Ce. Now, with him venturing deep alone, how could he destroy a thousand-year-old empire? He clearly understood that west of Han River, dozens of armies were quietly observing, all waiting for this confrontation between him and the Elegant Army. Once he showed any sign of fatigue, they would swarm in.

Therefore, the Iron Line River battle was crucially important. Although small in scale, it was an undeniable defeat. At this point, only a larger battle could provide cover, and his leading troops out of the pass to actively engage would also demonstrate the strength of the Yan Bei army.

“Ah Chu, the Iron Line River battle, though unintentional, was ultimately your superior skill.”

Under the night’s cover, Yan Xun sat in his royal war chariot, before him were eight pure black Yan Bei war horses. He wore an ink-colored python robe, slightly raising his chin and narrowing his eyes as he looked at the city tower hidden in the darkness. A honey-skinned, seductive-eyed dancer knelt on the chariot, her smooth back as white as a lamb. She looked up, holding a cup of fine grape wine high, giggling and saying, “I wish Your Majesty a triumphant victory, tearing that wench in the city to pieces, spreading the fame of Yan Bei.”

Yan Xun lowered his gaze, quietly looking at her, the corner of his mouth raising in a faint smile. He asked casually, “Are you a citizen of Yan Bei?”

The dancer was startled, then said, “This servant is originally from Han River, but I have long admired Your Majesty’s reputation. Now at Your Majesty’s side, I am Your Majesty’s person, naturally also a person of Yan Bei.”

Yan Xun’s smile deepened. He said, “Your country has been conquered by me, your compatriots slaughtered by me, yet you say you are my person. It seems you are truly loyal to me.”

Seeing his pleasure, the dancer was immediately delighted and quickly pressed on, “This servant is naturally Your Majesty’s person. As long as Your Majesty is willing, this servant will do anything for Your Majesty.”

“Anything?” Yan Xun slightly raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” The dancer’s eyes were like water, her lips full as if honey could be squeezed from them. Her ample bosom pressed against Yan Xun’s leg as she twisted her waist like a water snake. Biting her lower lip, she softly breathed, “Anything.”

Yan Xun laughed and said to the guards on both sides, “She says she can do anything for me, so let’s fulfill her wish. When we attack Wei Liao city later, let her charge at the front.”

With that, the guards immediately seized the dancer. Her face instantly turned pale as she anxiously cried out, “Your Majesty! Your Majesty, spare me! This servant is a weak woman, how can I go to battle and kill enemies?! Your Majesty, spare me!”

The dancer struggled as she was dragged away. Yan Xun leaned back in his chair, quietly swirling the grape wine in his hand, murmuring to himself, “Anything?”

He couldn’t help but laugh coldly.

At this moment, in Wei Liao city, there was also a weak woman, wearing armor, standing on the high city tower, looking down at the continuous military formations below. Bands of light appeared on the horizon, thousands upon thousands of torches illuminating the night as bright as day.

She knew that Yan Xun was among those countless torches. Years apart, today marked their first reunion.

Perhaps she had always expected this day would come. Fate, like a mischievous child, enjoyed creating all sorts of dramatic collisions.

She stood on the high city tower, slowly raising her head. The night wind blew past her body, lifting the strands of hair at her temples. Torches made the sky fiery red, just like many years ago when they stood shoulder to shoulder, their knives swung in unison, breaking free from the confining cage and cutting a bloody path.

If they had known this day would come, would they still have joined hands back then?

She slowly closed her eyes, her features resolute, frost at the corners of her eyes. Worldly affairs were like rolling tides—no one could predict when the next wave would crash in.

She gripped her battle saber tightly. The man with wolf-like eyes emerged from the depths of her memory, standing before her across the golden spears and blades. The wild wind raged, the night was grotesque, and faintly, it was once again that season of pomegranates like fire and arrows like forests, filled with bloodshed.

A sudden thunderous boom sounded. In the red light, a bare-chested giant stood on a high platform, beating a drum. The drumbeats penetrated one’s chest as if the earth itself were trembling with each beat.

He Xiao drew his crossbow, fully pulled the string, and released. The arrow immediately shot forth like a meteor. At that moment, an arrow from the enemy formation came directly toward them. That arrow came even faster, quickly colliding with He Xiao’s arrow, shattering He Xiao’s arrow in half as if breaking dead wood, and still whistling forward without losing momentum.

Seeing this, Chu Qiao casually drew a throwing knife and released it. The knife hit the arrow, and both fell.

Cheers rose simultaneously from both armies.

Yan Xun lowered his crossbow and, among the ten thousand troops, slowly raised his head.