The muscle clothing had been available for some time. Though Tie Ci didn’t let him follow closely, she didn’t oppose his distant escort either, even distributing two of the hard-won captured muscle suits to him and Zhao San.

After Murong Yi learned of this, he ordered him to rush back to Ru Zhou, wearing this garment to stage a shocking “otherworldly visitor demonstration case.”

On one hand, letting Da Feng people know they weren’t worry-free, that they and Da Qian were actually a community of shared destiny.

On the other hand, eliminating military bigshots who were powerful, arrogant, yet untouchable due to retirement.

Killing two birds with one stone.

At this moment, Mu Si stood in the underground cave dwelling, watching Tie Ci approach, thinking of his own emperor who loved to humble himself, sighing with mixed feelings of joy and worry.

With this current affair, His Majesty could be considered to have gotten his worth.

The group walked forward through the long tunnel, with Zhao San going ahead first to return to Murong Yi’s side for coordination.

Mu Si walked in front, listening to several people’s hollow footsteps, suddenly coughing once.

Then coughing again.

The cough was monotonous and hollow, clearly not from catching cold.

Mu Si listened to the monotonous footsteps behind him, his heart gradually sinking.

Tie Ci was a clever person who could definitely tell he was deliberately coughing, wanting to ask something, and could guess what he wanted to ask.

If she was willing to answer, she would naturally respond, asking “What’s wrong with you, sir?” to give him an opening.

But she didn’t respond.

All this way, from their first meeting, Tie Ci had been avoiding them—no, avoiding him.

Sending him to the capital, not letting them rescue her.

Why did she want to avoid him?

Mu Si suddenly stopped, turning to look at Tie Ci.

Tie Ci was walking with her head down and nearly collided with him.

She stopped in time, looking up at him.

Her Majesty the Da Qian Emperor had ruled long, her bearing increasingly composed. Her eyes reflected the torchlight in the tunnel, warm and dark, naturally powerful.

But Mu Si didn’t retreat.

He had never retreated from anything in his life.

He said directly: “Your Majesty, did something happen to Dan Shuang?”

Pingzong’s head shot up. She didn’t know about Dan Shuang and Mu Si’s affair. Hearing this foreigner suddenly mention Dan Shuang, she was very surprised.

Then she glanced at Tie Ci.

Though Tie Ci hadn’t yet shown any expression or movement, Pingzong’s reaction had already revealed everything.

The wind through the tunnel was bone-chillingly cold. Tie Ci slowly said in the cold wind: “Mu Si, I think she would surely hope you could live well.”

Mu Si froze in the piercing cold wind.

Like instantly Da Feng’s thousand-li snowfields thunderously collapsing, pouring down, burying endless snow mountains on flat ground, from then on pressing him beneath the mountain unable to emerge.

In the spacious, cold, lonely passage, strange breathing sounds—one long, one short—echoed as Mu Si struggled to regulate his breathing.

After a long while, he said softly: “How did she die?”

As soon as he spoke, his voice was strange, as if his throat was blocked with something, causing him to clear his throat three times in just that short sentence.

Tie Ci closed her eyes, not speaking. Pingzong couldn’t help saying: “The one most pained by losing Dan Shuang may not be you! Why force His Majesty to recall again and again!”

Mu Si closed his eyes, stepped back, leaning against the cold wall, turning his head toward the shadows.

Tie Ci waved her hand, silent for a moment before saying: “I previously thought that for you, not knowing details might be better. But someone like you, fearless all your life, has nothing you can’t face… Dan Shuang was caught between my teacher and me, used by my teacher, infected with a terrible disease. To avoid harming the world, she… chose to end her own life.”

The tunnel was silent as death.

After an unknown time, Mu Si’s calm voice finally sounded.

“That’s something she would do.”

Tie Ci said softly: “She was by my side eighteen years. I always felt her nature was fierce and stubborn, feared she would go to extremes when facing difficulties, advised and warned her many times, but unfortunately…”

Unfortunately, character is a permanent mark carved into destiny, unable to be erased or wiped away, bursting forth resolutely at the crucial moment, making a predetermined summary of one’s life.

Mu Si turned his head. He seemed to have regained composure, saying nothing more, only: “Let’s go.”

Just as he turned his head, Tie Ci saw a crystal bright wetness on his gaunt profile.

The three continued slowly through the passage.

Mu Si thought of that year on the great sea in a light boat, the girl standing at the bow glaring angrily at him.

Tie Ci thought of their first meeting at age six, that skinny little girl whose skin was snow-white after washing away the dust.

Pingzong thought of that year on Ghost Island with roaring bonfires, having once seen a pair of young people stepping on each other’s feet in dance among the crowd.

The road ahead was long, time leisurely flowing.

At some point, light appeared ahead, accompanied by frost flowers dancing toward them, gently touching people’s faces, cool against cheeks, instantly becoming drops of cold tears.

The light grew brighter, vaguely showing flying snow and scattered frost—it was snowing outside.

In the chaotic wind and snow, dim yellow light glowed hazily—a lantern, its light faintly reflecting a delicate figure.

…

On the day it snowed in Pojing City, a warm sedan chair entered slowly beneath Cangsheng Tower.

This forbidden area carved out by Da Feng’s Emperor within Pojing City, containing various sceneries, housed a tower also called Cangsheng Tower.

Around the tower, peach blossoms hadn’t yet opened. Due to the warm earth energy, plum blossoms had bloomed early—old branches strong and vigorous, still bright despite the snow.

The person in the warm sedan didn’t linger for this elegant scenery of white snow, red plums, and green tower, directly entering the tower. Lights lit up in sequence, golden bells at the eaves gently stirred by wind and snow.

In the distance, Da Feng people saw the brightly lit Cangsheng Tower and knew Da Feng’s Emperor had come to vacation again.

These past years, Da Feng’s Emperor came to Pojing City irregularly, sometimes staying in Yannan Bamboo House, sometimes in Fuchun House, sometimes in Lingquan Village—he rarely stayed in Cangsheng Tower.

In the quiet room atop Cangsheng Tower, Murong Yi stared at the dancing candlelight, after a while saying: “You say she looked well?”

Zhao San standing opposite said: “Yes, though Da Qian’s Emperor is thin, she’s in good spirits, her martial skills even better than before, her innate abilities also recovered.”

“This isn’t right.” Murong Yi showed no joy. “That teacher of hers has always harbored ill intentions. Staying by her side so many years, how could she not leave some means to control her? Moreover, where fortune lies, misfortune lurks—how did her innate abilities suddenly recover? If only I could ask Jingxu…”

“Precisely because Jingxu is by her side, Your Majesty needn’t worry too much,” Zhao San said. “Medical Madman’s medical skills are unparalleled—he can surely keep her safe.”

“She’s someone with hidden ailments. In this national crisis, if she’d hide away to recover, I’d believe she’s fine. But you also saw—she works day and night, wishing she could become a great golden-winged peng, spreading her wings to protect all her little birds. Taking on everything like this, where will she find time to treat her illness and rest?”

This verged on personal attack. Zhao San smiled awkwardly, not daring to respond.

His thoughts were simple and honest. If Mu Si were here, he’d probably retort: “Trash-talking behind her back, cowardly when face-to-face.”

Murong Yi glanced at Zhao San, probably finding him boring too, waving for him to leave.

Zhao San bent down, adding oil to Murong Yi’s lamp.

His movements were slight, his form blocking the oil lamp. After adding oil, he glanced at Murong Yi.

Murong Yi was facing the wall, lost in thought about how to lure Tie Ci to Pojing City—of course, mainly because there were important matters to discuss, affairs concerning both nations’ survival.

But direct meetings between two nations’ monarchs were major events that the Ministry of Rites could organize for months. He couldn’t wait—should he just kidnap her?

He fantasized about this, not noticing Zhao San’s somewhat strange expression, nor that after Zhao San left, the oil lamp flame flickered slightly, emitting faint wisps of smoke.

…

In the capital’s December, snow hadn’t yet fallen, but the cold had penetrated to the bone. Especially after nightfall, even Alliance warriors whose bodies had been modified couldn’t quite withstand it, early burrowing into Da Qian Academy’s gatehouse.

Of course, if they still had muscle clothing, they wouldn’t fear the cold. In the current Alliance era, due to atmospheric damage, extreme weather often occurred. In the coldest times, cities instantly accumulated ice, humans could only live hundreds of meters underground. Those able to execute various outdoor missions could only rely on high-end equipment.

However, over these months, already limited wartime equipment had been greatly consumed. Though follow-up personnel could still be replenished, equipment and weapons were somewhat insufficient. These warriors staying behind in the capital had to remove armor or muscle clothing. Except for one person still having a laser gun or pulse gun, they were almost like civilians.

Therefore, no one stood guard at the main gate.

In the rear dormitory barracks, remaining warriors slept in disarray.

In the computer room before the main control screens, a technician nodded his head repeatedly at the monotonous surveillance screens.

Originally there were many images on screen covering every corner of Da Qian Academy, but due to the last “heavy rain,” many cameras were damaged. Now that Da Qian Academy was no longer command center, naturally it couldn’t get timely repairs and replacements.

So now many places on screen were black.

At the deepest part of night, light from some distant high building cast shadows slightly wriggling on the ground, flashing past.

Then with a “pop,” the main gate opened without wind.

A guard happened to come out on patrol, seeing this scene with some surprise. As he approached to look, just as his hand touched the iron railings, he felt his neck go numb and hung his head motionless.

Another in the gatehouse was still sleeping soundly, turned over, suddenly sensing something strange, reached out and grabbed.

By the gate’s dim light, he saw it was actually a scorpion!

Where would scorpions come from in this weather?

This thought just flashed before freezing—he stiffened on his pillow.

After another moment, rustling sounds came from bushes inside the gate.

On the technician’s screen, the main gate monitoring area also went black.

A group of people swaggered through the main gate, naturally simply dismantling Da Qian Academy’s main gate.

Simultaneously, more people infiltrated from those corners already black on screen, silently approaching dormitories housing warriors and the dean’s office.

Without much effort, these long-lax warriors, overly confident in their technological level, became prisoners.

Outside the main gate, Qi Ling led Five Military Headquarters troops waiting, personally escorting these prisoners away.

Several others entered the dean’s office, led by someone who looked short and fat with a trailing cloak.

Guards along the way to the dean’s office had been eliminated. These days the dean wasn’t present, so guards were few anyway.

The short, fat person entered the office. The technician’s drowsiness hadn’t cleared until his shoulder was patted and someone smilingly shouted in his ear: “Hey, brother!”

The person was startled awake, then pressed down forcefully by the person before him, who said in realization: “Ah, so you’re not deaf! Then how come we practically danced here and you were still sleeping?”

The technician looked in terror at the person before him. The leader had bright, beautiful features, rarely seen silver hair, a highly protruding belly—not actually short and fat, but a pregnant woman.

The pregnant woman was naturally the Palace Master, who had prepared for months, secretly interfering several times, finally deciding to act after confirming Yun Buci wasn’t in the academy.

She looked the technician up and down, snorted mockingly, saying to those beside her: “These people look intimidating but actually just rely on their weapons being powerful. Without weapons, they’re all weaklings.”

Her followers nodded in deep agreement.

The Palace Master bent down, examining with interest the wide screen and control panel with countless buttons: “Come on, tell me what all these buttons can do?”

“Can’t… can’t do anything…” the technician said tremblingly. “We’re currently only monitoring the academy situation. We’re no longer the command center…”

“What about your armory…”

“There… there isn’t any…” The technician looked bitter, thinking if there really were any, would it be your turn to act tough here?

The Palace Master also knew tonight’s situation. The operation went surprisingly smoothly, proving His Majesty’s original guess correct—the enemy was severely short on weapons and personnel.

But this shortage here was to ensure pursuit of His Majesty. His Majesty protected the capital by fleeing alone—capital subjects couldn’t shamelessly enjoy His Majesty’s sacrifice without doing something for His Majesty.

The Palace Master, with her subordinates and elite troops assigned by the Cabinet, took advantage of the false peace period from negotiations to scout Da Qian Academy’s surveillance points, then exploited these people’s carelessness to attack here. Originally hoping to capture some weapons but finding nothing, unwilling to return empty-handed, her gaze lingered on the central control panel, suddenly pointing at the largest, most prominent red button: “What’s this for?”

“For… for requesting aid… under emergency conditions, requesting aid from Management at the highest level. Unless suffering extremely fierce attacks and heavy losses, it cannot be activated…”

“Request aid from whom?” The Palace Master didn’t understand. “What people would come?”

“Management major general level and above, or councilors…”

The Palace Master still didn’t understand, but this didn’t prevent her from judging these should be big officials.

“Then activate it.”

The technician stared at her in astonishment.

This place was currently leaderless—Yun Buci had been summoned back to Management for investigation. Instead of running quickly, these people wanted to lure big shots here?

“Activate.” The Palace Master said coldly. “I heard you can also instantly send messages across thousands of li? Then send a message to your Management saying—Yun Buci has long been turned by Da Qian’s Emperor, harboring evil intentions with treasonous plots. You just discovered evidence!”

…

Xi Yun held a lantern, standing in wind and snow at the tunnel’s end.

Her maids, following her instructions, stood far away, somewhat uneasily watching her.

Not understanding what person could make Miss personally come receive them on this snowy night, not allowing them to approach.

Xi Yun watched the approaching figures from the tunnel’s end, expression calm.

Tonight she had done something quite treasonous—because she wanted to personally see that legendary woman.

To see what kind of bearing belonged to the woman who could make His Majesty dream of her, whom even enemy subjects mentioned with complete reverence, sincerely praising as a wise ruler.

Then she saw Mu Si walking past her with lowered head.

General Mu seemed strange, but Xi Yun couldn’t attend to him. Her gaze fell on the two women who appeared next.

Both dressed ordinarily, one relatively tall for a woman, thin but not frail. Her features seemed disguised, just generally good-looking, but she had level shoulders and straight neck, long legs and narrow waist. Her walking gait was graceful—neither feminine nor crude, with a noble bearing that drew one’s gaze.

Even disguised, you could see the blue-skirted woman had broad features. When looking at people, her gaze was calm and vast, like seeing distant seas.

Xi Yun smiled.

Better to meet than hear about, meeting exceeded reputation!

She stepped forward, bowing: “This servant comes to receive Your Majesty.”

Tie Ci nodded gently, initially not paying her special attention.

Xi Yun didn’t introduce herself either, personally holding the lantern to lead the way.

Tie Ci followed behind her. After several steps, she suddenly said: “Miss Xi.”

Xi Yun turned around, momentarily surprised, then smiled: “Your Majesty truly has eyes like torches.”

“Miss has excellent bearing,” Tie Ci said calmly. “I’ve heard your name long. Having the fortune to meet today—Miss came specially to receive me, didn’t you? My earlier rudeness was improper.”

Xi Yun bowed: “This servant was presumptuous, wanting to observe Your Majesty’s bearing.”

Tie Ci merely smiled, asking nothing, gesturing to continue.

Xi Yun was startled, thought for a moment, couldn’t help smiling.

This Majesty was indeed different from everyone else.

The greatest difference was she was warm and approachable yet naturally noble, overlooking the human world. Before anyone, she would never lose composure—human affairs bustled like flowing water before her eyes.

Perhaps not necessarily unable to leave traces, but others weren’t qualified to know.

Beside her, Tie Ci asked: “What are you thinking?”

Xi Yun said: “Thinking Your Majesty is worth it.”

The “Your Majesty” she mentioned naturally referred to Murong Yi, but seemed to have double meaning.

Tie Ci said naturally: “How is Murong Yi?”

“Your Majesty should ask in person,” Xi Yun said. “Good or not good varies for different people, different matters, different times.”

Tie Ci glanced at her.

She’d long known this woman was naive but perceptive—indeed true.

Murong Yi had always liked clever people.

Xi Yun said: “This servant thought Your Majesty would be a bit jealous.”

Tie Ci smiled: “Actually there is a little, just didn’t want people to notice. These years working, if nothing else, I’ve gained some understanding of so-called imperial composure and magnanimous bearing.”

Xi Yun added: “This servant also thought Your Majesty would thank this servant for caring for our Majesty these years.”

“Put on the airs of a principal wife?” Tie Ci smiled again. “No need for such things.”

Xi Yun turned to look at her.

Yes, no need for such things.

The world’s most noble and powerful woman possessed the world’s most complete confidence, believing that even if heaven sent thunder, split the land, and years passed without meeting, her beloved would remain unchanged, never leaving, never betraying.

No need for anxiety, no need for testing, no need to declare status and position.

Murong Yi was hers—my heart is not a stone that can be turned.

All others were merely subordinate subjects.

The group walked through snow with rustling sounds. Tie Ci glanced at the exceptionally high blue sky.

All the way north, those otherworldly visitors sometimes pursued, sometimes stayed quiet for periods—probably replenishing personnel and weapons, then repeating the cycle. However, intervals rarely exceeded one day. This time when she reached Yong Ping, the opposition should have sensed something, remaining quiet for so long.

Had they finally reached a critical point, gathering full strength to completely resolve matters in this northern land?

So for her, some things had to be put on the agenda.

Murong Yi.

You don’t dare come see me.

Then I’ll come see you.

Pojing City was much quieter than before, dragon-like city walls sleeping in flying snow.

Hopefully after the great battle, this place could restore its prosperity.

Ahead, Cangsheng Tower came into view.

Xi Yun stopped, opening the door for Tie Ci.

Tie Ci walked past her side, suddenly saying: “You like Murong Yi, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Xi Yun answered frankly.

“So I’ll still thank you,” Tie Ci turned to look at her. “Not for caring for him, but for still persistently liking him when the whole world saw him as a demon, and for telling him so. Letting him know that regardless of infamy, injustice, illness, or all the trials and tribulations of this world—as wave after wave passes over—he remains the bright, shining one worthy of being loved.”

She smiled, patting Xi Yun’s shoulder, turning to enter the tower.

Xi Yun stood under the plum tree by the door, watching Da Qian Emperor’s figure ascend the steps, gradually merging into the tower’s dim yellow lamplight.

Behind her, the plum tree rustled in the wind, covering her plain dress with bright red plum blossoms. Snow accumulated on her lantern, frost formed on her brows.

Yet her eyes gradually rippled with smiles.

After a long time, she said softly: “I once told him that from ‘Compassionate Heart Chronicles,’ I saw the world’s most beautiful love.”

“Thank you for letting me witness it again with my own eyes.”

…

Tie Ci slowly ascended the steps.

Last time she came to Cangsheng Tower, she hadn’t entered, only having flown past the tower body.

Because she’d caught some fellow sneakily peeping from the tower top.

Tie Ci took an oil lamp from beside the stairs, following spiral steps upward. Where she passed, originally bright lights gradually extinguished.

In the tower’s hollow center, she left darkness below her feet, keeping only a single spark to illuminate her white dress hem, winding toward the top floor.

On the seventh floor, she stopped.

Before her was a curtain of pearls, dazzling bright. Vaguely she could see within the small hexagonal room, on the couch and table, someone resting chin in hand with head down, hair unbound. Black hair flowed like soft satin over shoulders, revealing between the strands thin wrist bones and snow-white fingers.

The air was suffused with faint sweet fragrance.

Tie Ci checked the time on the Western wall clock. She had waited until after her nightly episodes passed before coming out—now she could be considered in dragon-like vigor.

Pearl curtains made delicate sounds. White cotton dress hem silently wound to the couch’s edge.

The person on the couch didn’t move.

Tie Ci wasn’t hurried to approach, slightly bending to listen carefully to his breathing, as if listening to some beautiful music, expression intoxicated.

After listening awhile, she squeezed close, sitting tightly pressed against Murong Yi’s side.

After sitting awhile, she rested her head on his back, face against his back, letting out a long breath.

After another while, she raised her hand to touch his head, following smooth hair strands down, using her palm to measure his waist, then pouting.

After a while, she changed direction, sitting before Murong Yi, bending down close to examine his face hidden by hair strands.

After looking for some time, seeming satisfied, she leaned over for a kiss.

His lips were slightly cool and soft, seemingly still the taste from years past. She licked her lip corner, simply taking another taste.

After two kisses, she felt somewhat parched, sitting back down, casually picking up Murong Yi’s already cold tea and drinking it in one gulp.

Then she looked around, sleeves fluttering.

All lights extinguished.

Sounds of rustling fabric arose—black cloak, blue embroidered folded-branch-flower jacket, black and white cotton pleated skirt, fine silk white undergarment… also white fox fur, deep purple coiled-dragon round-collar narrow-sleeve trailing coat, three-section black obsidian leather belt, white gauze middle garment, white flower silk pants, cowhide boots… scattered on the flowered nine-bat long-hair carpet before the couch.

In the darkness came sounds of boxes being knocked over, also swallowing sounds. The couch began swaying gently, causing even the wind and snow outside to seem more fierce.

In the room’s charcoal brazier, firelight glowed dimly, warm as spring. Faint fragrance diffused around—unclear whether it was the light cool wood scent of sandalwood, or the natural beauty of peony flower fragrance, or this winter night’s fresh snow cold fragrance, or perhaps you in me and me in you, gentle blending without distinction.

By the window was a crystal tank. In this weather, carefully tended bright red goldfish lazily settled at the bottom, seemingly also affected by the lingering fragrance and subtle, tender vibrations in the air—heads and tails paired, swimming happily.

Vaguely someone was softly moaning—at first hearing it seemed pain, on second hearing it was pleasure. Yin extreme yang electric, penetrating instantly, bringing fine tremors and endless joy.

Sometimes the movement grew slightly louder. Golden hooks on the couch swayed leisurely, casting shallow golden shadows, entangling again with bed curtains, spinning and creating sequences of fine metallic tinkling sounds, echoing with the ceaselessly chiming golden bells on the tower eaves outside.

Suddenly a long sigh, seeming to be Tie Ci’s voice, lazy yet surprised: “Really was drugged unconscious…”

Quiet for a moment, unknown what she was doing. A very crisp “pop” sound, then she laughed, light and happy as in her girlhood.

Then she said “Mm!” forcefully, encouraging herself: “Since it’s so, I must work even harder!”

A muffled “bang,” the couch swayed more violently. Behind pearl curtains someone arched their chin back, crystal sweat beads sliding down from neck.

…