Spring had arrived in Yongping, but winter was still halfway through in Liaodong.

A convoy hurried across the vast earth, followed by a large cavalry whose horses’ hooves splashed up snow, creating mist that rolled several fathoms high behind them.

At the center of the formation were several exceptionally sturdy-looking carriages, specially-made vehicles that traveled smoothly and swiftly across the snowy ground.

This was the convoy of the Liaodong Prince and his sons rushing back to Ru Zhou.

That day on Five-Color Plain, Prince Da’an had been wounded by Murong Yi, injured in a vital spot. Being advanced in years and having lived a busy life, this wound triggered old injuries, leaving him unconscious.

The various princes who had come to observe the battle originally had plans to seize military authority while they could, but because too many had come, they checked each other and none could get their way. With successive defeats at Cang Tian and Five-Color Plain, though news of the Great Prince’s severe injury was suppressed, his prolonged absence was itself a blow to morale. With Liaodong’s defeat, the princes saw the situation couldn’t be salvaged and could only order retreat, escorting the Great Prince into the deep snows.

The war against Da Qian was lost, and the Great Prince remained unconscious. If… then they had to hurry back to Ru Zhou—what if the brothers left guarding Ru Zhou seized power in their absence!

Therefore, this convoy ran as if chased by wolves, not caring whether their father’s injuries could withstand the jolting.

Several princes also took advantage of having the army’s protection to very tacitly leave part of their guards behind.

To search for Murong Yi.

This man was severely wounded with his followers scattered. If they didn’t seize this opportunity to find a way to kill him quickly, were they supposed to wait for him to recover and seek revenge?

Now in their hearts, Murong Yi was a fierce demon, an undispelled shadow, a massive boulder hanging precariously overhead—in some ways more terrifying than the Great Prince they had always feared most.

After all, the Great Prince had no grudge against them, and even tigers don’t eat their cubs.

But this one’s grudge with them had continued from childhood to now. Back then they hadn’t considered it a grudge—it was merely weak grass beneath their palms to be crushed at will. Could an ant harbor grudge and hatred against an elephant?

Only when the ant suddenly became a venomous snake or lion did they realize the hatred had long taken deep root.

Truly it was a fight to the death—whoever encountered the other wouldn’t hesitate.

The snowy plains were vast, the wind and snow growing fiercer. The weather had been poor lately, and another blizzard seemed imminent.

A single rider came galloping from ahead, raising signal flags from afar.

The Embroidered Guard Chief at the front whistled and slowed his horse. The carriages ahead stopped, forcing those behind to halt as well. The Seventh Prince lifted his carriage curtain and stuck his head out: “Why did we suddenly stop?”

Among the princes who had emerged, he was the eldest, so he naturally took charge, considering himself currently the leader.

“The road ahead has collapsed and we need to detour. We can’t make it around tonight,” the Embroidered Guard Chief said. “Also, the snowstorm is coming.”

The Seventh Prince frowned and looked around: “How can we stay in this godforsaken place with no village ahead or behind?”

The Embroidered Guard Chief pointed: “There’s a village over there.”

It was called a village, but actually looked like only three or four households. Still, something was better than nothing.

The convoy headed in that direction. Upon arrival, they discovered this small village was already abandoned. The guard troops quickly cleaned out several rooms, first carrying the Great Prince into the relatively best room. The Seventh Prince naturally chose the second-best room, while the remaining princes had to crowd together in one room.

The Great Prince’s personal guards, the Tiger Guards, surrounded the small house tightly. The Embroidered Guard Chief personally carried a bowl of medicinal soup over but was stopped at the door. The Tiger Guard leader politely nodded to him, personally took the medicinal soup, drank a large mouthful, nodded to him again, then entered the room and shut the door.

The Embroidered Guard Chief stood outside the door, his mask motionless. After a moment, he turned and left.

The Seventh Prince, sticking his head out from the house next to the next house to get some air, saw this scene and smiled coldly.

Though he didn’t know why the Embroidered Guard Chief had fallen from favor, he clearly had. The Great Prince trusted no one.

The Seventh Prince looked back at his own room. Calling it a room was generous—it was just a broken-down house with wind coming through all four walls, as cold inside as outside. The Seventh Prince ordered several fires lit. Traveling in haste, they naturally had no silver charcoal. The smoke and coal gas from several fires made the Seventh Prince cough constantly, forcing him to go outside for fresh air.

Snow was falling outside. His boots crunched in the snow as the Seventh Prince pushed open the fence gate and saw a soldier passing by with a small flag on his back—the scout who had brought the road report earlier.

To ensure safety, everyone in the convoy had been carefully screened. The Seventh Prince knew each person. Only the scouts responsible for scouting ahead could possibly join the convoy temporarily.

The Seventh Prince leaned against the fence, wondering if his guards had found Murong Yi. It would be good if they could deal with him swiftly.

He had instructed them not to hesitate upon seeing that man—whoever killed him would receive rich rewards.

Watching the scout lead his horse past, he suddenly called: “Hey, you.”

The scout stopped in response. Under his thick cotton hat were a pair of slender, dark eyes with a very innocent, clean gaze.

Clearly a green recruit who hadn’t been in the army long.

“Go fill the water tank, then heat a bucket of water. I want to bathe later.”

In this weather, the well platform was piled with snow and the ground was slippery. Hauling water was hard work. The Seventh Prince decided to treat his trusted followers better, so he could only conscript lowly scout soldiers for such tasks.

The scout soldier said nothing and went to the courtyard to get a bucket and draw water.

When he passed by the Seventh Prince, the prince faintly smelled medicinal odor.

Oh, he’s even carrying wounds.

The Seventh Prince had no intention of calling it off. A mere common soldier was meant for hard labor—what was a little injury?

He went back to warm himself by the fire. Through the window, he vaguely saw the young soldier continuously carrying water, slipping with each step, his exposed fingers frozen red.

Gradually it grew dark, and the sound of water pouring into the tank continued.

The Seventh Prince felt an urgent need to urinate. He wanted to relieve himself indoors but couldn’t find a chamber pot or urinal. Being fastidious, he didn’t dare piss in a basin and stink up the place, so he had to go outside.

His personal guards were huddled under the eaves in thick cotton coats with their heads down, sleeping. The scout soldier went in and out repeatedly. At first they watched, but after many trips they couldn’t be bothered to look.

The Seventh Prince considered himself a considerate master and didn’t wake them. He went around to the back of the house and tremblingly began to urinate.

Halfway through, he heard footsteps behind him.

Also the sound of water sloshing—clearly that boy returning with more water.

Quite conscientious, saying he’d fill it and actually filling it completely. The Seventh Prince stood on tiptoes to look at the water tank in front of him, saying displeasedly: “After all this time it’s still not full—”

Footsteps approached behind him, crunching in the snow.

“—Really a lazy—”

Suddenly a great force pressed down from above, violently shoving his head into the ice water!

Instantly, extreme cold flashed through his brain like lightning, bringing intense headache and suffocation. The Seventh Prince immediately choked on water, his head thrashing wildly, his lower body struggling desperately. The person behind pressed against him, slamming his upper body, which hadn’t had time to pull up his pants, against the tank’s side.

A soft hiss—his hot body immediately froze upon touching the icy tank. The Seventh Prince’s entire body convulsed like epilepsy, his feet scattering the snow into flying ice chips. The person behind remained unmoved, pressing tightly against the Seventh Prince. After a moment he released his grip, but the hand holding his head down remained motionless.

That soaked head desperately tried to crane his neck up, dark blue tendons bulging on his nape. But the hand behind was like iron, pressing him deadly still underwater, while his naked legs had been firmly stuck to the tank’s side. At the slightest struggle, there was a ripping sound as two bloody pieces of skin were left on the tank.

The Seventh Prince wanted to shout but couldn’t, wanted to move but couldn’t. The agony of suffocation seemed ready to burst his lungs, while bone-deep cold and darkness slowly pressed over his mouth and nose like a black curtain. The moment the curtain fell, his whole body convulsed violently.

In the moment before death, white light flashed through his mind. In his delirium, he saw that year in the ice cave when he too had pressed down a small head, watching that little skull struggle in pain, laughing wildly as he held down his legs until that tiny child could barely struggle anymore, then hauling him out with a splash.

Spitting at that face covered in ice and blood, then pressing him back down.

Pulling him out again.

Pressing him down again…

Hell pressed down darkly.

This time, it was his turn for eternal damnation.

…

The person above quietly watched the back of the head half-submerged in the tank. The water gradually froze, a white line slowly congealing in that patch of black hair.

The transparent ice surface vaguely reflected the figure above, blurred and indistinct, only a pair of eyes—cold and determined.

Over by the eaves, a guard vaguely seemed to hear some commotion and raised his head to get up, but saw a patrolling Embroidered Guard pass by.

He curled his lip, buried his head back in his thick coat, and went back to sleep.

A moment later, a figure swept over the low fence wall.

The Seventh Prince still stood by the tank, pants fallen around his feet, thighs stuck to the tank’s side, a long slide mark on the ground.

…

Near dawn, a scream startled everyone.

One of the Seventh Prince’s guards got up to patrol and discovered a snowman in the back courtyard. He first thought someone had built it, wondering who was so bored as to build snowmen in the middle of the cold night. When he approached and looked closely, he realized something was wrong.

He brushed the snow from the snowman’s face.

A moment later, he let out a heart-rending shriek.

Everyone quickly gathered.

All stood with iron-gray faces looking at the Seventh Prince’s corpse—he had died in a truly undignified position, head buried in the water tank, buttocks exposed, everything from lower abdomen to thighs stuck to the tank.

Both the Embroidered Guard Chief and Tiger Guard leader came to look. The two reached consensus: “The Seventh Prince seems to have slipped while relieving himself in the night, fallen into the tank, and with his lower body stuck to the tank unable to struggle, he just…”

Everyone fell silent. Last night had been so cold, the ice water’s temperature was imaginable. Falling into the tank would immediately cause one to freeze unconscious, making recovery difficult, let alone being stuck.

Everyone had grown up in cold lands. As children they’d all been warned by adults: don’t lick icicles, careful not to get your tongue stuck!

The Tiger Guard leader asked the Seventh Prince’s personal guards: “Did any unknown persons enter the courtyard last night?”

How could those guards who had slept soundly all night admit their negligence? They all shook their heads, swearing they had watched with wide eyes all night, absolutely no outsiders had entered. When the Seventh Prince went out to relieve himself, they thought he was going for a bowel movement so didn’t solve it indoors, so they didn’t stop him, etc…

The Tiger Guard leader sneered: “Even for a bowel movement, he should have returned within a quarter-hour. When he never came back, didn’t anyone go check!”

The Seventh Prince’s personal guards had no response, silent as cicadas in winter.

“Failing to protect your master—drag them all out and bury them in snow pits!”

Before those personal guards could beg for mercy, the Tiger Guards stepped forward and dragged them out.

The Embroidered Guard Chief watched the Tiger Guard leader take charge without reaction, even stepping aside to make way.

Among the personal guards, one man’s expression changed and opened his mouth to speak. Just as he passed in front of the Embroidered Guard Chief, the Chief flicked his finger.

An icicle like a needle pierced the man’s back, silent and soundless.

The man immediately couldn’t make a sound and was dragged away with the group of pleading personal guards.

The Tiger Guard leader was somewhat surprised.

Burying in snow pits was a commonly used interrogation punishment in Liaodong. Very simple—bury people in snow pits, then slowly pace above until the snow was tramped solid and those below suffocated to death. This punishment had a long transition period, with intimidation as the primary goal. Before the snow pit was tramped solid, many people couldn’t withstand the terror of slowly approaching death and would confess.

But this time there seemed to be genuinely nothing. Those personal guards buried under the snow screamed and begged for mercy, but no new information came from anyone’s mouth.

Then it really was accidental slipping and falling.

The Seventh Prince was just unlucky.

The corpses buried under snow were left unattended. The Seventh Prince’s body was carried indoors. Tearing him from the tank took great effort and much water.

The Seventh Prince’s carriage was now empty, containing only a corpse. The remaining princes would rather continue crowding together than use that carriage.

The atmosphere grew tense. Though the Seventh Prince had died accidentally, his death still cast a huge shadow over everyone.

Travel became even more hurried. Scouts went out to explore routes early in the morning.

At noon they were still traveling across the vast snowy plains. This time they couldn’t even see a small village.

The Tiger Guard leader didn’t order camp to be made for cooking today either. Personal guards of the princes in the carriages all sent out dry rations.

The dry rations had no chance to be heated, ice-cold and rock-hard. The pampered princes gnawed with difficulty.

Only the Ninth Prince bit into his with large mouthfuls, saying viciously: “Eat! Only by eating will you have strength. If we encounter that bastard, we can draw blades faster!”

The Twelfth Prince looked at him coldly. The Fourteenth Prince asked in surprise: “Bastard? Who?”

“Murong Yi!”

The Ninth Prince sat in a corner, keeping some distance from everyone. Being tall, he crouched in the corner with long arms and legs, but his expression was fierce, tearing at his steamed bun as if tearing at Murong Yi’s head.

The Fourteenth Prince still looked confused: “Murong Yi? What does this have to do with Little Eighteen? Didn’t he escape?”

“Fool, do you really believe Seventh Brother died by accident? How can there be so many coincidences in the world? Slipping, falling into a tank, then his lower body getting stuck too? Such a shameful way to die—could coincidence cause that?”

“But there were so many personal guards then, and the whole village was surrounded by our army. How could he, one person and injured, sneak in?” The Fourteenth Prince shook his head, not believing. “Don’t let the deaths of our elder brothers frighten you. Little Eighteen isn’t a god.”

The Twelfth Prince suddenly said coldly: “You must have forgotten how Seventh Brother stripped Little Eighteen’s pants and dunked him in water when he resisted.”

“What does that have to do with this…” The Fourteenth Prince was halfway through when he suddenly stopped, his expression slowly changing.

The Ninth Prince looked at him sideways and suddenly laughed: “Remember now? Seventh Brother led the stripping of his pants and drowning him, so he made Seventh Brother strip his pants and drown! Let me remind you of something else—don’t pretend this has nothing to do with you. You also participated in stripping his pants back then.”

His sinister smile reflected the half-light of snow coming through, cold as white bones and skulls. The Fourteenth Prince shivered and said reluctantly: “How did I participate much? I only stood to the side. You, on the other hand…” he said loudly, “You were the one who always led the bullying! You even kicked him at Five-Color Plain!”

The Ninth Prince sneered: “Right, I also acted. I kicked him too—so what? He killed Big Brother, Fourth Brother, Eleventh Brother, and Seventh Brother, and now wants to kill me? Then let him come! Let’s see who dies faster!”

The Fifteenth Prince, who had been sound asleep, turned over and waved his hand drowsily: “What’s all the noise about? So annoying!”

“Useless!” The Ninth Prince didn’t even look at him. “What good is having an army guarding us if someone infiltrates the army? With so many people, it’s easy to blend in. I’ve already told General Fang to arrange a full army search. Murong Yi must be hiding in the army, waiting to kill us off one by one!”

The Twelfth Prince’s eyes flickered, the Fourteenth Prince shivered, and the Fifteenth Prince started snoring again.

“You’re scared!” The Ninth Prince laughed wildly. “I’m not afraid! When I find him, I’ll drag him out and slice him to death bit by bit! For every person he killed, I’ll give him a hundred cuts!”

The carriage suddenly jolted violently!

The princes all cried out. In his reactive state, the Ninth Prince immediately sprang up, hitting his head on the carriage roof.

The voice of the guard driving came from outside: “Your Highnesses, forgive us—the carriage hit a large stone!”

The Fourteenth Prince sighed in relief, the Twelfth Prince silently relaxed his back, and the Fifteenth Prince fell from his seat, rubbing his head in confusion as he sat up. Looking up, he saw the Ninth Prince standing half-bent above him and asked in surprise: “Ninth Brother, what are you doing? It’s nothing, sit down quickly before you hit your head again.”

The Ninth Prince said nothing.

He maintained his previous posture—half-bent with his head against the carriage roof, eyes wide, staring ahead, frozen there as if he had discovered something incredible.

The Fourteenth Prince also looked up in surprise and pushed him: “Ninth Brother, sit down—”

“Don’t move!”

The Twelfth Prince suddenly shouted and rushed over like the wind. Just as he touched the Ninth Prince, the Ninth Prince collapsed with a thunderous crash.

His massive body fell onto the seat. The Twelfth Prince reached up to touch his head and felt a handful of bright red.

He spread his five fingers, looking bewildered, meeting his two younger brothers’ even more shocked and confused gazes.

After a long while, he muttered: “Dead—”

The Fourteenth Prince gasped, and the Fifteenth Prince’s eyes widened as he finally woke up.

After a while, the Fourteenth Prince let out a scream that startled the two princes into jerking backward, then thinking there might be killing mechanisms in the carriage, they forcibly stopped.

The curtain was violently pulled aside, and the Tiger Guard leader appeared in front of the carriage, his voice tense: “What happened!”

He immediately saw the Ninth Prince’s corpse.

The Twelfth Prince clearly heard this leader, famous for his composure and a trusted general of the Great Prince, suck in a sharp breath.

He climbed into the carriage in a few steps, reached up to touch the top of the Ninth Prince’s head, and after a moment, slowly pulled out a nail.

The nail was extremely fine, gleaming with blue-green light—half material, half poison.

The Embroidered Guard Chief also appeared, looking at the bloody nail in the palm. After a long silence, he said: “This is Abyss Iron.”

The Tiger Guard leader said: “Murong Yi!”

Author’s Note: Let me say in advance that the male lead is no saint.

Especially in the early and middle periods, he will never become a saint.

If readers have particularly high requirements for moral character or low acceptance of certain necessary killing and fighting scenes, I suggest skipping these sections.