Murong Ti, dressed in white robes with disheveled hair, passed through the courtyard littered with corpses scattered everywhere and came to the entrance. Facing the Xianbei nobles led by the Tuhe clan and the soldiers behind them who knelt to welcome him, the first words he spoke were to kill Zhang Ji.

He silently ascended the towering gate tower of Gaoliang City.

The night was black as ink, pressing down from above.

Fires set by soldiers during their plundering raged throughout the city. Looking into the distance, the entire city was dotted with patches of firelight.

Not far below the city gate, the piercing cries of women calling for help suddenly rang out, mixed with the wild laughter of soldiers.

Murong Ti looked down from his high position for a while, then suddenly ordered Murong Zhe who followed behind to bring him a five-stone bow. In the darkness, he struggled to draw the bow with his stiff left hand, slowly aimed at the shadowy figure of a soldier committing evil below the city wall, and released an arrow.

The arrow did not strike true to the heart, missing by several inches, but the soldier still fell to the ground upon impact.

The woman was suddenly rescued, crawled up from the ground, and looked up at the sky above. Seeing nothing but the pitch-black city wall, she was bewildered for a moment, then stumbled and fled along the wall.

Murong Ti slowly lowered his arm that trembled slightly from exertion.

Murong Zhe hesitated: “Elder brother, should we order the soldiers to stop plundering the city?”

“There are still two hours until dawn.”

Murong Ti spoke indifferently, his expression cold.

Murong Zhe listened to the distant sounds of more cries and wails that seemed to come from women and children, then fell silent.

But soon, everything was covered by the howling night wind at their ears.

Murong Ti alone climbed to the top of the tower.

The wind from the northern plains howled up to the city wall, lifting his disheveled long hair and robes. He stood upon it, his figure seeming to sway precariously, yet his face showed no expression. His gaze pierced through the wind sounds filling the city, through the firelight below his feet, and looked toward the direction of Luoyang.

Emperor Xia was dead, and Luoyang now had only Northern Xia royal family members defending it.

Murong Ti knew that soon, that once-arrogant city that had trampled him like mud would prostrate at his feet, trembling.

He had sworn countless times that if he ever fought his way back to Luoyang, the first thing he would do was massacre the city.

Only blood and flames could wash away the mockery and humiliation he had suffered there, giving him the satisfaction of revenge.

But now he knew that massacring Luoyang could no longer bring him the satisfaction he desired.

He stared at that patch of night sky, then slowly turned his gaze toward the more distant south, watching for a long time.

He remembered that night from the past.

It was also such a deep night with howling winds. In the wilderness, he had been knocked unconscious by a woman with a stone.

She was the most beautiful and most noble woman of the Southern Dynasty.

Never in his life had he been so close to death.

If at that time she had continued to pick up stones and strike his head once more, just once, he might have long since become a skeleton scattered by wild beasts in the wilderness, and there would be no moment of him standing alone on this tower tonight.

But life was so mysterious.

At that time, because of her momentary compassion, not only did this person called Murong Ti survive to this day, but he had also moved one step closer to his desires.

All along, in his heart, he had regarded those days spent with her and that night’s experience as a kind of omen, like a prophetic portent.

What was righteous, what was evil—he did not care.

He did not believe in the so-called triumph of good over evil.

He only knew that virtue rises one foot, vice rises ten.

He knew that Southern Dynasty Han man’s ambition.

Actually, that was also Murong Ti’s ambition today.

Tonight, at this moment, standing high atop the tower, he seemed to already see the scroll of the realm slowly unrolling beneath his feet.

People say the world is like a chess game. Those within it are often beyond their own control, trapped in chaotic situations.

But Murong Ti did not want to be a person within that chess game.

He had sufficient forbearance and patience.

What he wanted to do was leap outside the chess game, to be the eye that observed human hearts, to be the hand that manipulated situations.

He unconsciously raised his right arm, touching his disabled arm that had just used all its strength yet still could not fully draw the five-stone bow. He slowly closed his eyes, stood rigid for a moment, then facing the night wind, suddenly let out a long howl.

This howl was high-pitched and unrestrained, as if piercing clouds and splitting stones. Combined with the raging fires and cries of anguish from the city below his feet, it pierced the night sky and scattered people’s dreams.

…

Luoshen suddenly awoke from her dream, finding it was still deep night.

The room was extremely quiet—so quiet that even her own heartbeat and the breathing sounds of A’Ju and the maidservants sleeping in the outer room seemed clearly audible.

She was covered in cold sweat, her whole person seeming to have truly just emerged from the dream. Steadying herself, she threw off the covers, slipped on shoes, and by the dim moonlight filtering through the window, came to the table and poured herself a cup of water that had already gone cold, drinking several sips.

The ice-cold water flowed down her throat into her body, finally making her feel somewhat comfortable.

At her ears, the faint sound of night tides came again.

She had no desire to sleep anymore. Wiping away her sweat and casually putting on a robe, she pushed open the door and stepped out. In the clear radiance of the bright moon hanging high above Bailu Zhou, she passed through the back courtyard of the building where she lived, walked for a while, and the riverbank came into view.

Facing the river wind that still carried a chill, she sat in a pavilion built by the riverside, gazing at the surging night tides, gradually becoming lost in thought.

This was a deep night in late spring of the third year of Longyuan.

Three years had passed in the blink of an eye since father left Jiankang. There had been no news of mother’s whereabouts, nor any messages from father.

Today when she entered the palace, she encountered Rong Kang, the Governor of Badong, again.

This time, he had brought what was said to be a heaven-sent auspicious sign and once again entered Jiankang.

The Empress Dowager was extremely pleased and ordered all officials to leave the city to ceremoniously welcome Rong Kang and his auspicious sign into the imperial palace. She held an auspicious banquet in the palace, not only summoning all civil and military officials to participate and witness the auspicious sign together, but afterward specifically displaying the auspicious sign solemnly in the imperial garden, inviting all noble ladies of Jiankang City to enter the palace to admire it together.

As the wife of the Grand Marshal, Luoshen was one of the highest-ranking court ladies, and everyone watched her every move.

Naturally, she had to attend such an occasion today.

The auspicious sign was a heaven-sent strange stone, golden throughout, with the stone body covered in shallow holes, looking extremely rare. Most miraculous was that connecting some of the holes in the middle, one could faintly make out what seemed to be several ancient seal characters inscribed: “Wood and grain flourish, the nation prospers greatly.”

Everyone who saw it solemnly prostrated themselves, saying this was an auspicious prophecy sent down by heaven, foretelling that Dayu would have favorable weather and abundant harvests, national revival, enduring dynasty, and eternal prosperity. Many ministers also specifically composed rhapsodies for this auspicious stone, and for a time the entire court was jubilant and encouraged.

Indeed, today’s political situation in the Dayu court truly warranted this heaven-sent auspicious sign and deserved celebration.

Dayu, which had once been storm-tossed and nearly collapsed, had now gradually emerged from its former decline and was improving in every aspect.

In Li Mu’s first year as Grand Marshal, he eliminated the remaining followers of Jinggling’s Yao Dan who had previously joined Xu Mi’s rebellion, pacifying Jinggling.

Immediately afterward, the following year, in the spring of Longyuan’s first year, he recovered Jiangxia, which had been occupied by Feng Xian, another accomplice of Xu Mi. The upper reaches of the Yangtze River were completely restored to peace.

By autumn of Longyuan’s first year, he used only two months to pacify the royal family member Prince Changsha, who had used opposition to Li Mu’s governance as Grand Marshal as an excuse to openly establish a state within the state, killing Prince Changsha. From then on, all royal family members remained silent, showing utmost respect to Li Mu, and no one dared voice any dissatisfaction.

In spring of Longyuan’s second year, the Hunnu leader Liu Duan, who had previously occupied Ningzhou and declared himself emperor, establishing the Han state, attacked Shu Prefecture, which was affiliated with Dayu. Li Mu launched a surprise attack, training naval forces and sending troops, destroying the Han state and killing Han Emperor Liu Rui.

At the same time, the court’s influence in Longxi had continuously expanded over these years.

In autumn of Longyuan’s second year, Li Mu destroyed Xi Liang, which had attempted to attack Chang’an, killing the Xi Liang emperor. More than ten large and small Western Region states all sent envoys to Chang’an to meet Li Mu, and through the southern route he had opened years ago, they made their way to Jiankang to submit to Dayu.

In just three years, Li Mu had not only unified all states within Dayu’s borders from the source of the Yangtze River to its mouth at the sea, completely unifying the Southern Dynasty, but also brought under Dayu’s domain all the northwestern territories radiating out from Chang’an as the hub, from the Western Regions in the west to Hangu Pass in the east.

Moreover, even the Huai River basin was about to be brought back under Dayu’s rule.

After Emperor Xia was killed by Murong Ti, it wasn’t long before Luoyang fell, and Murong Ti succeeded the suddenly deceased Murong Xi to the throne, becoming emperor of the Yan state. The Xia royal family members who had been guarding Luoyang at that time fled to Runan, occupied the Huai region, and reestablished the Xia state.

Last winter, when the Xia people violated Dayu’s borders in a territorial dispute, Li Mu decisively launched a northern expedition.

Not long ago, news came that he had captured Runan and taken the Jie emperor alive, and was now on his way back to the capital.

Because southerners deeply resented the atrocities the Jie people had committed in the past, Li Mu escorted Emperor Xia back to the capital, planning to publicly execute him in the marketplace upon reaching the capital to appease popular resentment.

The power and national strength of the Southern Dynasty had expanded unprecedentedly since crossing south. Now with this heaven-sent auspicious sign as further proof, how could the civil and military officials not be jubilant and sing praises?

This afternoon, after viewing the strange stone in the palace, Luoshen bid farewell to Gao Yongrong and was about to leave the palace when Rong Kang came requesting an audience. He said that besides presenting the auspicious sign, he had specifically prepared gifts for the two most honored ladies of the Southern Dynasty—the current Empress Dowager and the Grand Marshal’s wife—hoping they would accept his sincere intentions.

Luoshen immediately declined, but Gao Yongrong said he had merit in presenting the auspicious sign and ordered him to be summoned in.

Thus, Luoshen once again saw Rong Kang from Badong.

Rong Kang’s attitude was extremely respectful. The gift he presented to Luoshen was also exceedingly precious—a cloak woven with the emerald feathers of a hundred birds and decorated with precious jewels. It was said that dozens of embroiderers had spent half a year to complete this garment, which was unrivaled in the world.

Luoshen declined it as too extravagant to accept. Rong Kang showed disappointment but dared not insist, taking back the gift and responding submissively.

For some unknown reason, Luoshen instinctively felt dislike for this local warlord from Badong. She did not linger then, found an excuse, and quickly left the palace to return to Bailu Zhou.

Over these years, Li Mu had campaigned north and south, constantly busy with military affairs, spending almost half the year away from home.

A’Jia and A’Ting had long since gone to Yi Cheng. She stayed alone in Jiankang, and during those long waiting periods when Li Mu was away, she often came to live on Bailu Zhou where her mother had once resided.

Tonight, after taking her medicine and slowly falling asleep, she once again dreamed that familiar dream.

In the dream, she was again surrounded by river water.

It seemed to be right here on Bailu Zhou, on this familiar river islet, with overwhelming water surging toward her from all directions, pouring into her mouth, nose, and ears.

Strangely, she dreamed that in that moment, her dream-self felt no fear whatsoever.

All she could feel was endless regret and deep sorrow.

She was awakened by this recurring dream, and until now, her entire being seemed still gripped by that feeling from the dream, her mind unsettled.

She suddenly had a feeling that something had happened to her right here, amid these surging spring tides and rhythmic wave sounds.

She slowly closed her eyes, recalling the scenes from her dream, striving to capture some seemingly fleeting memory fragments from the dream, when suddenly she heard footsteps behind her.

She opened her eyes and saw A’Ju holding a cloak, hurriedly searching for her.

A’Ju came behind her, draped the cloak over her shoulders, and while tying the collar ties, quietly complained: “Though it’s late spring, the nights are still cold, especially by the river where the wind is strong. Young Lady is still taking medicine—be careful not to vomit again.”

Three years had passed.

There had been no news of mother all along.

A’Ju had gone from initial hope to now not daring to mention the three words “Eldest Princess” in front of Luoshen.

Luoshen knew that in her heart, mother was probably gone.

Perhaps because of this, though her own health was much worse than before, she still stubbornly insisted on personally serving Luoshen, taking care of her even more meticulously than before.

Hearing her mention vomiting from taking medicine, Luoshen couldn’t help but smile bitterly again.

How much she wanted to bear Li Mu a child.

But so much time had passed, and she still had not become pregnant.

By now, even A’Ju was beginning to feel secretly anxious.

Though Li Langjun spent most of the year away and the couple was separated more than together, after all these years, Young Lady’s belly showed no signs at all, which was somewhat worrying.

Since last winter when Li Mu left Jiankang for the northern expedition, A’Ju had invited imperial physicians to regulate her body.

The medicine was very bitter, making Luoshen vomit frequently and become somewhat thinner. Recently, even A’Ju felt unable to bear watching it, saying if it was truly impossible to take, they should stop—after all, Li Langjun had never inquired about this matter.

But Luoshen refused to stop. She vomited and continued taking it, never interrupting. From when he left until now, she had persisted for nearly half a year.

A gust of river wind came, and Luoshen shivered.

A’Ju immediately protected her like a mother hen, softly persuading: “Let’s go, go back to sleep. A’Ma knows you miss Li Langjun. Isn’t he coming back soon? This time when he returns, he should be able to stay in Jiankang for a while longer.”

Her face showed a smile, her tone full of pride: “Li Langjun has achieved great merit again. Since a few days ago, everyone outside has been discussing how they’ll watch the execution of that Jie emperor! Finally, we can vent our anger. When he returns this time, who knows how the court will reward him.”

Luoshen smiled slightly, suppressed her inner worries, and obediently accepted A’Ju’s support, rising from the pavilion to go inside.

War, endless war.

In three years, Li Mu had killed two governors, one prince, and including the one about to be killed, three emperors.

Only Luoshen knew that his campaigns north and south, his constant military service, were not for the court’s rewards.