At the same time, a sharp sound rang out. Strong wind tore through the air, approaching from behind. The hair on the back of his neck instantly stood up, while sweat all over his body suddenly broke out.

Then came the sound of sharp weapons piercing flesh, half a scream, and the heavy sound of a body falling.

A’li Teng’s cry of alarm was right beside his ear.

At this moment, ahead of them, his guards who had gone to meet the approaching army also began to cry out in alarm. Commotion erupted in front.

Chi Qingbo paid no attention to the guard who had died uselessly behind him, nor could he spare time to check what exactly had gone wrong with that secret army. Dragging A’li Teng, he dodged left and right using the still-unaware guards’ bodies for cover. Even in such a critical moment, his reactions remained quick and his calculations precise. Cold arrows pursued his steps like ghosts, but they kept striking the guards he was using as human shields.

By the time the guards behind him were wounded or dead, Chi Qingbo had already escaped the shooting range. But instead of rushing toward his secret army, he went in another direction—toward what appeared to be a dead end facing a wall. Chi Qingbo pursed his lips and whistled.

That wall suddenly collapsed, bricks and stones falling everywhere. Then came the sound of horse hooves as countless horses galloped over the fallen courtyard wall.

Some servants dressed as household staff, carrying iron hammers behind the bricks, couldn’t dodge in time. Some were directly trampled under the horses.

Chi Qingbo casually leaped onto a horse, lifted A’li Teng and threw her onto another horse, then turned and spurred his mount, galloping frantically toward the inner courtyard.

His reaction was truly astonishing. Everything happened in an instant, so that Wan Ji and the others couldn’t react at all. Clearly Chi Qingbo had had the upper hand just moments before—why was he suddenly fleeing? It was only when Tie Ci ordered Bu Qing to shoot arrows that Wan Ji finally reacted. After the rain of arrows failed, he hurriedly led people in pursuit. But no one could have imagined that instead of running outside, Chi Qingbo would charge into the heavily walled inner courtyard. The formation couldn’t adjust in time, so ultimately only Tie Ci and Murong Yi gave chase, with Murong Yi still carrying You Weixing.

The inner courtyard was clearly filled with countless pavilions, towers, flowers, trees, and grass—completely unsuitable for galloping horses. But suddenly countless people dressed as servants emerged, wielding axes, hammers, and blades. With a flurry of fierce chopping, they felled flowers and trees in the blink of an eye, even large trees were no exception. Only then did everyone realize that some of those flowers and trees were fake, while the large trees had been hollowed out in the middle and broke with a single chop.

Continuous rumbling sounds arose, dust flew everywhere, and walls collapsed one after another. Countless people responsible for lighting gunpowder fuses ran through the smoke and dust, dodging to both sides as the herd of horses galloped over the ruins with hooves raised high. Those too slow to dodge were directly trampled to death, their flesh and bones turning to dust.

Tie Ci mounted a horse from behind to give chase. Watching Chi Qingbo’s horse hooves ahead of him, she saw walls falling, great trees breaking, tall buildings collapsing. A magnificent estate collapsed layer by layer, with smoke and clouds like chaotic mushrooms and debris like rain. Scenes of ruins constantly flashed before the horse hooves, like an apocalyptic collapse.

Even she couldn’t help but admire in her heart—what impressive reactions Chi Qingbo had, what deep scheming, what strong decisiveness, what grand gestures!

Even with victory in his grasp, he had still used the entire estate to arrange such an escape route that no one could have imagined.

A’li Teng lay prostrate on her horse, bounced around as if in a giant boat, her head covered in dust. She didn’t know what was happening, nor did she understand why they had to flee so frantically. She instinctively looked back at that army—the army her husband had spent countless efforts to build.

Then she looked back and her whole body went numb.

She saw some of the rattan-armored soldiers standing there numbly, then being surrounded and disarmed.

Others turned their heads and bit into the necks of companions beside them.

Some held long spears, thrusting them into the chests of Chi Qingbo’s guards who had joyfully gone to meet them.

Others moved stiffly, wandering the battlefield like walking corpses.

Even more were people who had fallen silently to the ground, casually thrown together by the Crown Princess’s guards.

A formidable secret army, her husband’s trump card, whose spear points had just emerged bright as snow from their concealment, was now shrouded in blood.

She didn’t even know what had happened.

She only knew it was over—everything was over.

A hand suddenly reached out, roughly pulling her reins and dragging her back several steps. Only then did A’li Teng realize that in her distraction, her horse had somehow reached the edge of the group and was no longer in the protected center position.

A’li Teng turned to look at her husband who had pulled her back, tears streaming down her face.

When Chi Qingbo pulled her back, from the corner of his eye he also noticed the situation with that army behind them.

He saw more than A’li Teng did.

He saw those people’s faces were ashen gray—they had all been severely poisoned.

He saw snakes hanging from those soldiers’ necks, giant crocodile tails swinging behind them, yellow and black frogs puffing their cheeks on their heads, huge centipedes crawling over their rattan armor.

He saw many people moving like puppets, being manipulated to advance and retreat, clearly not only poisoned but also under someone’s control.

So they could continue advancing, entering the city, letting him see them and think victory was assured.

If he hadn’t suddenly realized what the appearance of that vine strip meant—that Tie Ci knew the location of Ten Thousand Vine Valley—and once she knew where Ten Thousand Vine Valley was, she would never let this army go.

Then when he smugly went to meet this army, it would be the beginning of his death without a burial place.

Although he had already sensed this and made his decision, his heart still turned bitter.

That was an army he had spent so many years allowing others to usurp his nest, hiding his identity, even using every means and scheme to trade with others to accumulate!

These people were originally selected from the strongest mountain folk, able to resist minor poisons, good at climbing and mountain paths, fearless of cold and heat, fierce and agile, sharp-eyed and keen-eared, with superior individual combat ability. After years of training in his designed small-group cooperative combat, plus secretly trained assassin teams specifically for disrupting battlefields and assassinating leaders, this was his trump card that he was confident could achieve victory on any battlefield.

It was the product of his years of effort.

Yet just before they could formally engage in battle, they lost all opportunity.

Tie Ci had hidden deep enough indeed.

How had she guessed about this army?

How had she found Ten Thousand Vine Valley?

And the Ba tribe—why could she use them?

Before this, Chi Qingbo knew that Tie Ci had sought the Ba tribe’s help to cure Murong Yi’s poison.

He was somewhat surprised but didn’t take it to heart, nor did he believe this meant the Ba tribe had submitted to Tie Ci.

He understood the Ba tribe—they lived independently from the world, neither loving nor coveting worldly prosperity. Especially that great-uncle, who had received his favor, didn’t like breaking oaths, and wasn’t a warm-hearted person.

It was just an occasional act of kindness—how could such a transcendent figure become a royal lapdog?

With just this one oversight that shouldn’t have happened, he lost everything.

Yet even with half his life’s work at stake and unwillingness in his heart, he only glanced once before turning his head away.

Scattered wealth could return again, but if life was lost, there would be nothing left.

Ahead came another thunderous sound as the last section of the rear courtyard wall also collapsed.

Chi Qingbo raised his eyes.

Beyond the wall, he could already see a large lake with shimmering water and a large cluster of reeds.

He knew that behind the reeds was hidden a small boat—the boat waiting to receive him.

Apart from this, within ten miles radius, there was absolutely no second boat to be found.

And to travel by land would require a large detour, and his boat’s final destination was deep in the mountains, impossible to locate quickly.

By the time they caught up with him, he would have already crossed through the great mountains and left Kunzhou.

Beyond Kunzhou were three great chieftains. Although Nanya had already betrayed him, there were still two others.

Yannan was mountainous, easy to hide in. At worst, it would just be another ten years of sharpening the sword.

He was still young—he could afford to wait.

The horse hooves beneath him rose high. This was a famous steed raised in the southern grasslands, brought and hidden in various places in Kunzhou before Tie Ci arrived in Yannan, prepared for emergencies.

The tall, long-legged fine horse needed only one leap to cross that section of ruins and land toward freedom.

His mood couldn’t help but become urgent, his attention focused only ahead. He vaguely heard a loud shout from behind, but it was far away, so there was no need to worry.

Wind whistled, rising from behind.

The horse hooves landed, already outside the wall. Ahead, a small boat emerged from the reed marsh, quietly waiting in the center of the lake.

The person on the boat stood up and threw out a lasso with powerful force, making a whooshing sound.

This way, Chi Qingbo wouldn’t waste time dismounting and boarding—he could fly directly onto the boat.

And there was no one else on the entire lake; the others were still behind him.

Chi Qingbo finally showed a slight smile, extending his arm in an almost elegant gesture.

The rope loop was right before his eyes, just a foot away.

Chi Qingbo leaned forward slightly.

The next moment he suddenly froze.

The rope loop so close at hand suddenly retreated backward.

Lightning-fast retreat, back into the hands of the rope thrower.

The rope thrower sat down.

The small boat began to paddle backward.

It disappeared back into the reeds.

The horse’s body shook—somehow it had already retreated back to this side of the wall.

The smoke and dust seemed to be gathered up and vanished in an instant. Fallen people stood up again. The walls silently and completely stood intact once more.

Trees stood up again, flower clusters flourished anew. Bricks, stones, and earth returned to their original places, piling up at a speed barely visible to the naked eye. The collapsed courtyard walls reappeared one by one before his eyes as if flying. The ground became neat and clean again.

The horse kept retreating. Wind and scenery continuously passed before his eyes, like scenery flashing past one’s face when traveling at lightning speed—scene after dazzling scene.

All this happened in just an instant. Chi Qingbo hadn’t even figured out what was happening; he only felt suffocated.

The scenery before his eyes suddenly stopped, the wind ceased, and clamor rose on all sides again, mixed with countless sharp sounds cutting through the air.

Vaguely familiar sounds and scenes.

Chi Qingbo discovered with near despair that he seemed to have returned to the moment before breaking out—back to the moment when he had just discovered he had lost control of his secret army, and archers under Tie Ci were about to act, so he had decisively decided to flee.

What had happened at that moment…

His head was a bit dizzy; he hadn’t yet recovered from this enormous shock.

He didn’t even hear that familiar, enormous wind sound.

Beside him, A’li Teng, equally bewildered, suddenly looked back.

The next moment her bewilderment turned to enormous terror.

A figure flashed.

A’li Teng used the best lightness skill of her life, throwing herself behind Chi Qingbo.

The next moment her body trembled violently and fell heavily against Chi Qingbo’s back.

Only now did Chi Qingbo finally remember what he had done at this moment before.

He had grabbed A’li Teng with one hand and thrown out a guard with the other, using that guard to block the fierce arrow from behind.

Now…

Now A’li Teng was right behind him—he didn’t need to pull her.

And the guards were still standing there in confusion.

But the arrow…

Where was the arrow?!