Yan Xun and Chu Qiao shared a single horse, galloping across the open snowy plains.

“Girl, come back to Yan Bei with me!”

“No.”

“You must,” the young man laughed cheerfully. “Let’s see where you can run this time.”

Hoofbeats shattered the tranquility of the plains. Fierce winds swept across the land as thunderous hoofbeats rolled behind them like distant thunder. Chu Qiao anxiously grabbed Yan Xun’s arm and said in a deep voice: “Madman, someone is chasing you?”

Yan Xun laughed carelessly and said: “It doesn’t matter. Yan Bei is vast and rich in resources. If the Wei family wants to follow along, it’s no big deal.”

Chu Qiao’s brows furrowed as she repeatedly looked back. Seeing the snow line gradually forming from a thread into a wall, she knew their pursuers were numerous. The child bit her lower lip, surveying the terrain around them, and said angrily: “Have you gone mad? You know people want you dead, yet you dare to come back?”

Yan Xun raised an eyebrow, repeating the same words: “What would you do if I didn’t come back?”

Chu Qiao’s eyes suddenly felt sore. She looked up at Yan Xun’s smooth chin—he was truly still a child, without even a beard, a pampered young master who recklessly caused trouble without regard for life or death. The child seemed dazed. Seeing this, Yan Xun laughed heartily and joked: “What, are you so moved that you want to pledge yourself to me? No need. You’re still too young. Who knows what you’ll look like when you grow up? How about this—just follow this Young Master, and we’ll see how things go.”

“Yan Bei thieves! Dismount and surrender immediately!”

A sudden shout rang out across the plain. The smiling Yan Xun raised an eyebrow and said: “Hey, looks like we have trouble again.” As he spoke, he cracked his whip to urge the horse forward, not slowing down but moving even faster.

Black battle armor appeared particularly fierce as mountains in the night. Urgent hoofbeats approached like rolling thunder. Countless waves of snow rose like an avalanche from the top of Mount Cangji, imposing and terrifying. The ground beneath them trembled frantically as if an ancient beast had awakened and was about to break through the surface, leaping out like a dragon.

“Hold tight!” The young man’s face suddenly became as unyielding as iron. His sword-like eyebrows knitted together as he gripped the reins tightly. With a sudden shout, the warhorse instantly reared up and leaped forward, neighing loudly, swift as the wind. The cold air sliced past their ears like sharp knives as they reached peak speed, instantly leaving their pursuers far behind.

“Haha!” Hearty laughter immediately rang out. The Yan Bei warriors all laughed loudly together, looking back at the astonished faces of the Wei family soldiers. The young page Feng Mian laughed and said: “Young Master, it’s time to let these noble young masters see what true Yan Bei warhorses are like.”

Yan Xun laughed resonantly: “Good, let’s open their eyes.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the Yan Bei cavalry simultaneously pulled their reins. They put fingers to lips and whistled, producing a clear, resonant call. While others were still confused, the warhorses under Yan Xun and his men suddenly stood on their hind legs. The manes on their necks all stood erect, like lions roaring, their voices piercing the sky with incomparable might and kingly dominance, making one’s blood surge and chest tighten. Hearing this, the warhorses under the True Imperial City warriors whinnied pitifully, their four legs weakening as they lay on the ground. No matter how much the generals who had received royal orders whipped them, they refused to stand up.

Chu Qiao was greatly surprised. The young page Feng Mian smiled, explaining proudly: “Our Yan Bei warhorses are bred from the queen mare of Mount Tianmu and wild wolves. Not only are they extremely fast, but on the battlefield, they can also summon wolf packs to assist in battle. These horses raised by the young masters of the capital’s great families have never even been on a battlefield. Just hearing the sound frightens them to the point of losing control. Wanting to chase us is simply a pipe dream.”

The Yan Bei warriors laughed in unison. The strong wind blew as Yan Xun’s great fur coat fluttered in the northern wind. The young man sat high on horseback and said loudly: “Let’s go, back to Yan Bei!”

The warriors laughed and shouted: “Back to Yan Bei!”

With rolling hoofbeats and billowing snow mist, under the black sky, the Yan Bei warriors galloped away with whips raised.

However, at that moment, a sense of crisis suddenly struck Chu Qiao’s heart. The alertness developed from years of dangerous work sounded a sharp warning like a bomb countdown timer. Before the child could even ponder this inexplicable tension, a sharp wind sound suddenly pierced the night, carrying the momentum of thunder, howling from the distance. Without time to react, almost in an instant, Chu Qiao punched Yan Xun in the abdomen. Yan Xun groaned in pain and bent over. Just as he was about to curse Chu Qiao for her ungrateful action, a powerful arrow immediately shot through his left shoulder, emerging from his back. Blood gushed forth with astonishing force. The young man’s body instantly fell from horseback like a kite with cut strings, crashing onto the cold snow!

“Yan Xun!”

Chu Qiao screamed in alarm and pulled the reins hard, but the warhorse in its rapid gallop completely ignored the pull of the reins and continued to run uncontrollably. The child became extremely anxious and suddenly leaped up. Her small body jumped from the horse’s back, executed a forward roll, and steadied herself in a crouch on the snowy plain.

“Yan Xun!” She rushed forward like a swift leopard. The young man had by now staggered to his feet. The child came forward and supported his shoulder, asking in a deep voice: “Are you all right?”

The young man’s gaze was cold, his brows tightly knit: “Not dead yet.”

With a “swoosh,” another powerful arrow shot toward them. Chu Qiao heard the sound and changed position, swinging her knife to chop fiercely. The arrow came so rapidly that it struck sparks with the blade, illuminating the pitch-black endless night.

“Put down your weapons!”

Uniformly shouted commands rang out simultaneously as countless mounted troops seemingly appeared out of nowhere from below the snowy plain. There were fully a thousand riders, each wearing snow-white fur coats. They had all been lying on the snow earlier, which was why the warhorses hadn’t noticed anything when passing by. Cold, sharp blades all pointed at the two of them, forming a forest of swords and spears through which not even a bird could fly. Not far away, the sounds of fierce fighting erupted simultaneously. The Yan Bei warriors who hadn’t dismounted in time had fallen into a heavy ambush and encirclement.

From behind the crowd, a young man in a black fur coat rode forward. His brocade robe under the great coat was embroidered with golden auspicious dragons, with a fierce dragon claw perched on the collar, gleaming dazzlingly under the flickering torches. Zhao Che narrowed his eyes and snorted coldly: “I knew the Wei family couldn’t succeed.”

Sharp blades were held at the necks of the two, and with a glance, the child noticed that each blade was imprinted with the Purple Wisteria Golden Flower unique to the Golden Palace, clearly identifying them as Imperial Guards. The young Seventh Prince looked coldly at Yan Xun, then turned his gaze to the small Chu Qiao, and said to his attendants in a deep voice: “Take them back.”

“Seventh Prince,” an attendant came forward, his eyes flitting toward the Yan Bei warriors fighting in the distance, and asked quietly: “The others?”

Zhao Che frowned slightly and snorted coldly: “Disrespecting royal orders, betraying the country and their master—what use is there in keeping them?”

The attendant immediately understood and shouted toward the distance: “By order of the Seventh Prince, traitors to the country and their masters shall be executed without mercy!”

A thunderous response immediately sounded. In an instant, arrows dense as a swarm of locusts shot out in unison. The Yan Bei warriors who had just been laughing heartily and boldly immediately became corpses, falling heavily onto the cold snow. Chu Qiao was furious, hearing young Feng Mian’s angry curses in her ears. Her fists clenched tightly as she looked coldly at Zhao Che sitting high on horseback. At this moment, some Golden Palace Imperial Guards came forward. The child struggled slightly, attracting the attention of the high-seated prince.

Zhao Che looked her up and down, frowning slightly. She seemed familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he had seen her before.

“Drag away all irrelevant people and behead them.”

“Who dares!” A fierce shout suddenly rang out as Yan Xun darted forward, tightly embracing the child in his arms. His gaze was cold as he fearlessly faced the royal youth above.

Zhao Che was taken aback, then laughed in extreme anger: “You don’t know what’s good for you. Even at this point, do you still think you’re the Yan Bei heir?”

Yan Xun said coldly: “Zhao Che if you dare do this, I guarantee you’ll regret it deeply.”

Zhao Che frowned and laughed coldly: “I’d like to see how a trapped beast like you can make me regret anything. Do it!”

The elite soldiers on both sides suddenly raised their blades, all advancing with a “swoosh.” Yan Xun pulled out a dagger and pointed it at his chest, his gaze like a blade in ice and snow, filled with resolute determination.

“Stop!” Zhao Che was instantly startled, frowning in disbelief as he carefully examined the child. Finally, he said in a deep voice: “Yan Xun, I’ll give you this face. Take them both back!”

Their weapons were immediately confiscated, and the two were pushed into a prepared prisoner cart. The child was held tightly in the young man’s arms, her pale little face pressed against his chest. Fresh red blood continuously flowed from Yan Xun’s left shoulder wound, down his neck, and onto the child’s clothes.

“Yan Xun,” Chu Qiao called softly, “how are you?”

A weak voice filled with indescribable apology replied: “Girl, I’ve implicated you.”

“Don’t say that. We will definitely…”

“Don’t worry!” Yan Xun suddenly interrupted Chu Qiao’s words, his voice resolute as he said firmly: “I will protect you.”

The child’s body stiffened as she was stunned. Long ago, in that dilapidated woodshed, someone had seriously told her the same words.

“Yue’er, don’t be afraid, I will protect you.”

The strong wind howled past. Yan Xun had lost too much blood, his body cold and trembling. The child suddenly extended her slender arms, tightly embracing the young man’s body, but her head turned to the left. Not far away was a low mound. The clouds had dispersed, and pale moonlight shone down. Solitary on a warhorse sat a young man not very old. The young man held a bow, the arrowhead pointed in their direction. The wound on Yan Xun’s shoulder was a gift from him.

Despite the distance, Chu Qiao seemed able to see the man’s appearance and features. She tightly held Yan Xun’s increasingly cold body, biting her lower lip. Behind the young man, the child’s small hands gradually clenched into fists.

The night was desolate. The heavy clouds had completely dispersed. The moonlight was as cold as water. Zhuge Yue slowly lowered his bow and arrow, watching the increasingly distant Golden Palace prisoner cart, not leaving for a long time.

This long night was finally about to end.

At dawn, news of victory came from the northwest: a great victory at Shangzhen, with the Prince of Yan captured, soon to be escorted back to the capital.

The empire rejoiced. The next day, as the sun rose, it was another bright, sunny day.