The desolate wasteland stretched a hundred miles without a trace of human habitation. Years of war and slaughter had left nothing but scorched earth. Whenever armies passed through, civilians scattered in all directions, seeking other places to settle. Yet in these tumultuous times, where could one truly find a haven?
For three consecutive days, torrential rain had fallen without pause. The north wind howled and sheets of rain poured down. When the carriage reached a dilapidated village, black ruins were visible everywhere. Finding a relatively intact house, Chu Qiao carried the still unconscious Zhao Song inside. She efficiently cleaned the house, gathered clean hay, and collected firewood to make a fire. Within half an hour, the house had become warm.
This uninhabited area was in the central plains. Previously, Chu Qiao had passed through here with the Southwest Garrison Commander and had even engaged in battle with Zhao Yang’s punitive expedition not far from here. The locals had fled in terror during that battle. They had left in such haste that they had taken only food and clothing, leaving behind cooking utensils in perfect condition. The water vat even contained clean water, and the woodshed still held large bundles of firewood for winter.
Chu Qiao carried a bowl of hot water to Zhao Chun’er, who sat alone in a corner of the house. She crouched down and handed her the dry rations and clean water.
The once golden branch and jade leaf did not look up, nor did she complain about the simplicity of the meal. She silently accepted the dry food, lowered her head to drink some water, and remained quietly speechless.
Throughout the journey, Zhao Chun’er maintained this demeanor. Surprisingly, she hadn’t shown any hostility toward Chu Qiao, nor any obvious resistance. She was obedient, compliant, and taciturn—eating when given food, and drinking when told to drink. When the road became difficult, she would get down and help Chu Qiao push the cart through the heavy rain. Without dry firewood, she would eat unpalatable coarse grain with cold water, just like Chu Qiao. When they encountered shallow rivers, she would dismount and wade through. When they met bandits, she would follow Chu Qiao’s example, taking up a knife with the fierce light of a hungry wolf in her eyes. But she rarely spoke and showed no interest in anything beyond Zhao Song.
Chu Qiao knew she wasn’t grateful, nor had she been frightened into stupidity. During that humiliating disaster, the young woman had grown up at an astonishing rate. Something had changed in an unnoticed corner, and Chu Qiao worried whether her current actions might be a disguised form of self-destruction.
After crumbling the dry rations into the hot water, Chu Qiao went to Zhao Song’s side. She inserted two fingers to pry open his mouth, then forcibly poured the food into it.
The man’s brows were tightly knitted, his chin covered with newly grown stubble. Unlike Yan Xun and Zhuge Yue, Zhao Song had once had a likable round face, thick eyebrows, and when angry, resembled a small lion with a constantly flushed face. Yet in just a few days, the once sunny and energetic young man had been tortured into a skeletal figure, his face as pale as white paper.
Looking at his empty right sleeve and blood-stained clothes, Chu Qiao turned her head away, unable to bear the sight.
“Mmm…”
A deep, soft groan suddenly sounded. Zhao Chun’er, who had been quiet, suddenly sprang up like a small beast and staggered forward.
Zhao Song’s brows were furrowed, his face contorted in pain. Chu Qiao knelt anxiously beside him, excitedly gripping his hand, and called out softly, “Thirteen? Thirteen?”
“Fool… don’t go!”
Broken, deep words came from the man’s mouth. His eyes remained tightly shut, veins protruding on his forehead, his face twisted in agony like a wild beast trapped in a cage.
“Thirteenth Brother!” Zhao Chun’er threw herself onto Zhao Song, shouting, “Thirteenth Brother, Chun’er is here, I’m not going anywhere!”
Pushed aside by Zhao Chun’er, Chu Qiao couldn’t help but say softly, “Princess, be careful not to touch his wound.”
“Get away!” The young woman whirled around, her face severe, looking at her with cold disgust.
“Don’t go with… him… you’ll… you’ll die…”
“Thirteenth Brother,” Zhao Chun’er’s face was bleak as she nodded repeatedly, “Chun’er understands, don’t worry.”
Zhao Song’s face had an unnatural flush, suggesting fever. Chu Qiao stood to the side, not knowing how to approach the siblings. She turned to go boil water but had barely pivoted when a hoarse voice froze her steps like lightning.
“I… I can also… protect… you… A-Chu…”
Zhao Chun’er instantly became still as a statue. The girl’s face turned pale, and like someone possessed, she turned to look at Chu Qiao, then back at the delirious Zhao Song. Suddenly, a bitter smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. She returned to the straw-covered corner, hugged her knees, and buried her head deeply.
Throughout the night, Zhao Song spoke deliriously. Sometimes he cursed Yan Xun for betrayal, sometimes he frantically shouted for Chun’er to run, but most often, he pleaded with Chu Qiao, begging her to stay, begging her not to leave.
This man, who had drawn a line at Nine Wei Street and resolutely severed ties with her, exposed all his fragility and softness on this rainy night. Every word was like a knife, mercilessly tormenting Chu Qiao’s heart.
Near dawn, he suddenly regained consciousness. Chu Qiao had watched over him all night, feeding him water and applying cool compresses to reduce his fever. When he awoke, Chu Qiao called out joyfully, “You’re awake?”
Her voice startled Zhao Chun’er, who had been sleeping with closed eyes. The young woman opened her eyes and looked over, but didn’t approach.
Zhao Song’s gaze was somewhat bewildered; for a moment, he didn’t even know where he was. He looked at Chu Qiao, his expression changing from initial surprise to confusion, then pain, resentment, anger, and other emotions flashing through his dark eyes, finally, all covered by immense coldness. That gaze was so cold, like ancient ice on a snow-capped peak, chilling to the bone. In his eyes, Chu Qiao seemed to relive their years of friendship—from first meeting to becoming close friends, and finally crumbling beneath those towering palace walls.
In that instant, Chu Qiao understood a fact she had always known but still held a sliver of hope about: she and Zhao Song could never be friends again. Some injuries, once formed, were like his severed arm—no matter how she tried to remedy the situation, things could never return to their original state.
“Chun’er?”
Zhao Song turned his head toward Zhao Chun’er in the corner, his voice raspy like a rusty saw. With his only arm, he reached out toward the frail young woman.
Zhao Chun’er pressed her lips together and crawled over on her knees. Her eyes were red, her lips trembling, but she forced a smile worse than tears and tightly grasped Zhao Song’s hand.
Outside, the rain poured down; inside, the fire crackled. The siblings who had survived disaster faced each other in silence, like two statues. Thousands of unspoken words transformed into two sorrowful gazes, meeting in the confined space.
“Chun’er,” the young prince, no longer sunny and carefree, resembled an aged old man. He gripped his sister tightly and said in a low voice, “Your brother has wronged you.”
Zhao Chun’er didn’t speak, only shook her head desperately. The tears she had held back throughout the journey finally flowed down her face, swinging chaotically as she shook her head from side to side.
Chu Qiao slowly stood up. No one looked at her, no one noticed her. In this environment, her shadow seemed utterly superfluous. For everything that had happened today, she bore an undeniable responsibility. She was an indirect executioner; there was no denying it.
The young woman turned, picked up the sword from the ground, covered herself with a tattered mat, opened the door, and walked out.
The door closed with a creak. Outside, rain poured down in torrents, and the cold wind howled like a rampaging wild beast.
Sheltered under the mat, she quickly ran to the stable. The black warhorse, seeing her approach, gave an excited snort and shook its head happily.
Chu Qiao shook off the rainwater, smiling as she approached and patted the horse’s neck. “You still welcome me, right?” she said with a faint smile.
The horse didn’t seem to understand her words, but seeing its master’s friendly gesture, happily bobbed its head up and down.
“I can only seek refuge with you tonight.”
Chu Qiao smiled and sat down beside the horse, which pressed close to her, affectionately rubbing its neck against her arm.
Something fell from the saddlebag with a thud. Chu Qiao picked it up and found a small flask of strong liquor.
She hadn’t drunk alcohol for many years, yet when she parted from the Southwest Garrison Commander, she had inexplicably taken a flask of liquor from He Xiao.
Outside, the wind and rain grew stronger, the world a gray blur, the rising sun almost invisible. Inside the house, it was warm, the fire still burning, illuminating the silhouettes of two people, casting shadows on the paper windows.
The young woman sat in the stable, one leg bent, leaning against the horse. With one hand on her sword and the other holding the flask, she tilted her head back and drank.
The strong liquor burned her throat with fiery heat. She suddenly began to cough violently, as if about to cough up her lungs. The horse, startled, looked at her with alarm. Still coughing, she soothingly patted its neck, laughing between coughs: “It’s fine… cough cough… I’m fine…”
As she laughed, tears flowed from the corners of her eyes like a winding stream, drop by drop falling on her cheeks, trembling with her violent coughs.
The sky and earth merged into one line in the heavy rain, without the slightest sign of clearing. Everything resembled a simple line drawing—against the backdrop of pitch-black ruins, the young woman’s figure was thin, extraordinarily desolate.
By morning, the heavy rain had finally stopped. Sunlight peeked briefly through the dense fog, then quickly disappeared again. After feeding the horse, Chu Qiao came to the door and knocked gently. Her voice was somewhat hoarse as she called softly, “Are you awake? We should get going.”
There was a rustling sound inside. Chu Qiao stepped back and stood quietly. Soon, the wooden door creaked open, and Zhao Chun’er stood in the doorway, her expression cold but her tone calm: “Thirteenth Brother asks you to come in.”
Chu Qiao nodded and followed Zhao Chun’er inside.
Zhao Song sat among the straws. Zhao Chun’er had neatly combed his hair and even shaved his beard, making him look much fresher. If not for the empty sleeve, she might have thought everything had just been a nightmare.
“You should leave.” Zhao Song’s gaze was cold as he looked over, his voice extremely calm yet filled with an icy detachment that kept people thousands of miles away. “I don’t want to see you again.”
Having expected this, Chu Qiao wasn’t alarmed. She calmly responded, “I need to escort you back. The road to Zhen Huang is far, and I worry about you traveling alone.”
Zhao Song raised an eyebrow, his gaze cutting across Chu Qiao like a knife: “Whether we live or die is none of your concern.”
A sudden pain gripped her heart as if a piece of flesh had been carved out. Chu Qiao took a deep breath and continued, “This central region has suffered from war; there are vagrant bandits everywhere. The major clans and feudal lords are watching from the sidelines, rapidly expanding their armed forces. At this time, the Zhao imperial authority could no longer intimidate them. Before returning to Zhen Huang, you cannot reveal your identity. Bandits are gathering at the western mouth and roaming the river bend area. You…”
“Enough,” Zhao Song frowned impatiently and said in a deep voice, “I said, whether we live or die is none of your concern.”
Her heart felt pressed by a huge stone. Chu Qiao breathed deeply and, after a long while, said hoarsely, “Zhao Song, I know you hate me. I also know these actions are far from enough to atone for my sins. But I cannot watch you go to your deaths.”
Zhao Song laughed coldly, raising his eyebrows as he looked at Chu Qiao, saying coldly, “A-Chu, do you know what I used to like most about you?”
Chu Qiao was stunned and raised her head. Zhao Song continued slowly, enunciating each word: “What I used to like most about you is how you are now—always so confident, regardless of your position, identity, or circumstances. You never looked down on yourself, never felt inferior, never lost hope, always so firm, firmly believing in your abilities.”
“But,” Zhao Song’s eyes suddenly darkened, his lips cold, “now I hate this about you—arrogant, self-righteous, always wearing the face of a savior. Who do you think you are? What do you think you’re doing now? Charity? Atonement? Or are you trying to do something so you can return to that beast with a clear conscience and live your lives?”
Chu Qiao shook her head, biting her lower lip, wanting to explain: “Zhao Song, I…”
“Get out! Don’t let me see you again!” Zhao Song shouted angrily. “I told you long ago, we are finished. If we meet again, it’s either your death or mine. Betraying the empire, slaughtering the people—you cannot atone even with a hundred deaths!”
“Zhao Song…”
“Get out!”
Zhao Song raged. Chu Qiao stood stunned, her hands and feet trembling involuntarily. She straightened her back and continued firmly, “Zhao Song, I will leave as soon as I see you enter Zhen Huang. Even if you don’t need me, there’s still the Princess. It’s a long journey through mountains and rivers, and I don’t think you want the same thing to happen to her again.”
At these words, Zhao Chun’er’s body instantly stiffened. Zhao Song glanced back at her, but remained stubborn: “I will protect my sister. It’s not your place to worry about that.”
“Thirteenth Brother…”
“Have you become so cowardly that you need protection from an enemy?” Just as Zhao Chun’er began to speak, Zhao Song thundered harshly. Zhao Chun’er gave Chu Qiao a complex look, then bit her lower lip and said no more.
Half an hour later, Chu Qiao watched as Zhao Song and Zhao Chun’er’s carriage gradually disappeared on the distant ancient road. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelmed her like an avalanche. A night in the cold rain had left her feverish and barely able to stand. But when the morning sun finally pierced through the thick fog, she still gritted her teeth, mounted her warhorse, and hurried after them.
From that day on, she carefully moved back and forth around Zhao Song’s carriage. Unable to plan their route, she could only clear the path ahead at night, dispersing scattered bandits and vagrants they encountered, or deliberately exposing herself to lure away larger groups of bandits. During the day, she followed far behind, protecting them from a distance. Because her horse was fast, she had not been discovered.
But after four days of this, due to extreme fatigue and constant exposure to the elements, she finally fell ill uncontrollably.
When she awoke, it was still raining outside. She lay in a dilapidated small pavilion. Zhao Chun’er, wearing a straw raincoat, held a chipped bowl containing two pieces of dry food.
“Eat. If you die, who will escort us back?”
The Zhao Imperial princess looked down at her, speaking calmly, placing the bowl on the ground before turning to leave.
Chu Qiao’s pale face was splashed with a streak of muddy water, winding like a horrifying scar. She watched as Zhao Chun’er’s figure gradually disappeared into the rain. For some reason, her eyes suddenly felt inexplicably warm.
Seven days later, the majestic ancient capital of Zhen Huang finally appeared hazily through the morning mist. This city, which had endured three hundred years of war, was the Northern Continent’s premier city. Like a sleeping lion crouching on the undulating red plains of Chuan, it made Chu Qiao feel utterly exhausted and emotional as she looked upon the city where she had lived for eight years.
She turned her horse around, facing northwest, about to leave when the sound of hoofbeats suddenly came from behind. Chu Qiao calmly turned her head, looking at the person before her, silently.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Going back to find him?”
“Yes.”
“Will you come back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”
“Haha,” Zhao Song suddenly laughed loudly, his empty sleeve fluttering in the wind, the scene as eerily strange as a kite missing half its wing. “See? I truly am a weak man!”
“Thirteen,” Chu Qiao said deeply, “Thank you for coming to see me one last time.”
Zhao Song smiled bitterly: “You traveled thousands of miles to escort me. Am I so narrow-minded that I can’t come to see you one more time?”
Yellow sand piled everywhere, scattered by the strong wind. Zhao Song wore ordinary brown coarse clothing, but it did nothing to diminish the royal nobility about him. The man’s hair flew in the wind as he spoke coldly, slowly: “But this time, it really will be the last time. If we meet again, you need not show me any courtesy, and I will show you no mercy.”
Chu Qiao slowly shook her head: “I will not kill you.”
“That’s your business,” Zhao Song said coldly, “Anyone who betrays the empire is doomed.”
Hearing this, Chu Qiao frowned and raised her head, enunciating each word: “Zhao Song, what is an empire?”
Zhao Song’s brows furrowed as Chu Qiao continued in a low voice: “What are heaven’s principles and royal laws? Is it just your Zhao family dominating, your word being gold, with no one allowed to resist? The battle for the capital involved no war crime; there was no right or wrong, only victory and defeat! Years ago, your father deceived his friend, massacred the Yan Bei people, and killed all of Yan Xun’s relatives. How should this hatred and enmity be calculated? How many assassinations and murders have you witnessed in the past eight years? Do you still dare to righteously claim that Zhao Zhengde treated Yan Xun with care and boundless grace? The so-called giving of a daughter in marriage was nothing but a deception to fool others. Had we not rebelled that night, we would surely have died at the hands of Ba Lei and Wei Shuye. Today, you would only see two graves and two cups of yellow earth. Zhao Song, you’ve been deceiving yourself, thinking that by closing your eyes you couldn’t see the tyranny of the Great Xia, thinking that by plugging your ears you couldn’t hear the laments of the people, never considering why a small rebellion in the capital would cause the mighty Great Xia dynasty to crumble. I don’t deny that I betrayed your trust and am sorry for your years of care, but when it comes to betraying the empire and starting this war, I feel no guilt, nor any regret. We were opposed from the beginning, with no possibility of reconciliation. Even if everything started again, I would still make the same choice as now.”
The resonant words scattered in the cold wind. Zhao Song laughed coldly, shaking his head with a sigh: “A-Chu, I misjudged you.”
“You didn’t. You just never knew all of me,” Chu Qiao said firmly. “Zhao Song, living in this era is our tragedy. A drop of kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring. Eight years ago, Yan Xun offered me help when I was in desperate straits. When I decided to follow him into the Golden Palace, our fates were destined to be opposed. You are a prince of Great Xia, while I am determined to overthrow the Xia dynasty. A rift between us on the battlefield was inevitable. Everyone in the Great Xia dynasty knew the emperor would not spare Yan Xun, yet you alone lived in confusion as if nothing would happen. For eight years, I hinted more than once to distance you, but you refused to face reality, naively believing your father would spare this survivor from Yan Bei. Zhao Song, I never intended to deceive you, and betrayal is not even applicable. But I did hurt you. Your years of care and kindness, I will remember in my heart. If there’s a chance in the future, I will certainly repay you.”
“It seems everything was my own doing, too naive,” Zhao Song laughed sorrowfully and turned away resolutely. “I will not let you have the ability to repay me. A-Chu, go. I hope to never see you again in this life.”
“Zhao Song!” Chu Qiao suddenly called out loudly. Zhao Song’s horse halted at the sound, but he did not turn back.
Chu Qiao thought for a long time, took a deep breath, and then asked solemnly: “How is Yan Xun?”
Zhao Song’s back instantly stiffened, the cold wind making his gaze even more frigid.
“He would never harm you unless forced into a desperate situation! He would never allow those people to escort you without being severely injured and unable to govern! You wounded him, fatally, very seriously, didn’t you?”
Although it was a question, there was not a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Chu Qiao stated this as a conclusion, not a hypothesis.
“Yes!” Zhao Song, with his back to Chu Qiao, said in a grim tone: “He won’t live much longer, but you can still make it back to see him off.”
Suddenly there was no sound from behind, only deep, hurried, suppressed breathing. After a long while, a hoarse voice came from behind: “Thank you for telling me.”
With that, a crisp sound of hoofbeats immediately rang out. Without even saying goodbye, or perhaps there was no need for goodbyes, the woman on horseback anxiously turned and galloped northwest at great speed!
Though the person behind had already left, Zhao Song still stood motionless. His horse nervously pawed the ground. The cold wind blew, making the man’s sleeve dance in the air, filled with profound sadness and bitterness.
A-Chu, your words are like pearls and jade, every sentence is true. How could I be so naive as to not understand all this? For eight years, this worry has wrestled and lingered in my heart, yet I never wanted to let go of the chance to hold onto you. It wasn’t that I didn’t know, but that I didn’t want to admit it, always believing that if I tried harder, I could keep you. I’ve deceived myself all these years until I almost believed the lies I wove. The empire will fall, and the great edifice will collapse. I keep saying Yan Xun betrayed Great Xia, but what truly pains me is that you finally betrayed me!
Although, I had guessed all this long ago.
Meeting on a narrow path, killing to protect, escorting for thousands of miles without asking a single word, but you knew everything, guessed everything, all because of that firm belief and unwavering trust in your heart! A-Chu, I once thought I weighed as much in your heart as he did, or at least not much less. But only now do I realize how ridiculously wrong I was.
Zhao Song looked up with a bitter smile, slowly closing his eyes. After half a lifetime of tumult, it was still just an illusion in the end.
Intense hoofbeats suddenly sounded. Zhao Song abruptly looked up to see Zhao Chun’er and Zhao Che arriving together, followed by a large contingent of Great Xia soldiers, numbering at least three hundred.
“Where is Chu Qiao?” Zhao Chun’er rode at the front, her eyes sharp, having lost her former coquettishness and weakness. Like a sharp dagger, she violently reined in her warhorse and shouted: “Thirteenth Brother, where is she?”
“Gone.”
“Gone? How could you let her go?” The Great Xia princess raised an eyebrow and asked harshly: “Which way did she go?”
Seeing Zhao Song’s silence, Zhao Chun’er grew furious and shouted: “Thirteenth Brother! Have you forgotten what they did to us?”
“Thirteenth Brother, which road did she take?”
Zhao Che wore black armor, his eyes glancing at Zhao Song’s severed arm without further questioning, clearly having learned everything from Zhao Chun’er.
In an instant, the events of eight years flashed through his mind like a massive tornado. He still remembered that day when the girl wore a white hawthorn cotton dress with white camel fur boots, and two jade pearl flowers in her hair, smiling like a flower as she said to him: “My name is Zi Xu, I live in Wu You Court, I’m a little maid under Madam Dou, my daily work is to make clay figurines for the young masters and misses to play with. You must remember that!”
Zhao Chun’er raised her eyebrow and scolded fiercely: “Zhao Song! Are you still a man of the Zhao family or not?”
“That way.” Zhao Song raised his hand, pointing in the direction Chu Qiao had gone. As soon as he spoke, three hundred horsemen immediately galloped away, leaving only swirling dust in their wake.
A-Chu, between us, it was still all fiction from the beginning. With different positions, we never had the possibility of standing side by side. You risked great danger to send me home, yet I cannot let you leave. Zi Xu, Wu You—a joke from that day has become like a prophecy fulfilled today.
The wind swirled lonely, the world desolate. Zhao Song rode forward, slowly heading toward the ancient city of Zhen Huang, his lonely silhouette slanting diagonally.
“Seventh Prince, she’s not ahead.”
The scout galloped back. Zhao Che’s face darkened, but before he could speak, Zhao Chun’er jumped in: “Her horse is fast. Dispatch ten patrol teams immediately for rapid pursuit. No matter how capable she is, a woman alone on horseback still needs to eat and drink; we’ll catch up to her sooner or later. Also, send messenger pigeons immediately to notify counties and prefectures along the way. Tell them that Chu Qiao from Yan Bei, who previously killed many of their allied forces, is coming alone without her army. I believe many besides me hate her to the bone, and many will be willing to act on our behalf. Under this net of heaven and earth, I want to see how she, a lone person, returns to Yan Bei?”
Zhao Che raised an eyebrow, turning to look at his younger sister with a frown: “Chun’er, did something happen to you on the road?”
Zhao Chun’er was startled, raising her head nervously: “Why do you ask, Seventh Brother?”
“You’ve changed a lot.”
Zhao Chun’er’s eyes were deep. Those filthy images flashed through her mind again. The young woman laughed coldly: “Seventh Brother, I haven’t changed. I’ve just grown up.”
“Hya!”
With a fierce shout, Zhao Chun’er spurred her horse forward. Zhao Che and the many soldiers quickly followed, protecting her from behind.
Much later, a petite figure suddenly stood up from a patch of grass outside the main road. She looked in the direction where Zhao Chun’er had disappeared, bitterness spreading through her heart.
As she had expected, Zhao Song had indeed betrayed her. She had deliberately chosen a roundabout route back to Yan Bei. If Zhao Song hadn’t told them, Zhao Che and his men would certainly have pursued along another road.
And Zhao Chun’er, quiet and silent throughout the journey, never showing hostility, had even intentionally guided her to Zhen Huang, all to have her escort them safely back to the capital, and then kill her afterward.
This princess of Great Xia had long harbored a determination to kill her!
Standing on the empty wasteland, an eagle screeched in the sky, its wings snow-white like the eagles of the Tianshan Mountains.
Chu Qiao curved her finger and whistled loudly. In the far distance, a jet-black warhorse galloped toward her, quickly reaching her side and happily circling her.
Chu Qiao leaped onto the horse’s back, smiling composedly: “Brother, we must take a detour; the roads ahead are all blocked.”
From Zhen Huang to Yan Bei was a stretch of flat plains. Previously, to prevent the Southwest Garrison Commander from escaping, the guards of several large prefectures and fiefdoms along the way had ordered the wild grass cut down and trees felled, removing all dense forests that could provide hiding places. Every river, ferry crossing, and post road was specially guarded. They thought Chu Qiao would only dare to flee secretly, but didn’t expect her to lead the Southwest Garrison Commander in a killing spree. After several battles, they suffered heavy losses of men and resources, wasting their previous arrangements.
But now, these previous arrangements could serve a great purpose. At present, those officials who had suffered greatly at her hands, learning that she was attempting to cross thousands of miles of encirclement alone to return to Yan Bei, would they not be waiting with wide eyes for her to walk into their trap? At this point, whoever could capture her would gain leverage against the new king of Yan Bei, and it would be no small blow to the nascent Yan Bei regime. After all, Chu Qiao’s record of leading four thousand troops in battles over thousands of miles without a single defeat was enough to make these great clans fearful and cautious.
If she were to return by the original route now, it would be tantamount to seeking death, with no hope of escape.
The only way out now was to take the southeast road into Bian Tang territory, travel south along the Qing Tong Mountain trail, turn into the Wu Xun River in the southern borderlands, follow it upstream, and finally return to Yan Bei!
The horse rubbed against her leg with its neck. Chu Qiao smiled, her voice filled with immense confidence. She pulled on the reins, gave a light shout, and rode east.