In the ninth month of the fourth year of Qianyuan, on a day of darkness and new moon, dragons battled in the wilderness.

The newly reorganized Youping army marched rapidly, using almost no tactics, like wind and thunder, directly assaulting Ran Mindao’s Northern Wei main camp.

Deliberately using overwhelming force to crush the isolated enemy force deep in hostile territory.

At that time, the Northern Wei army, having just been raided by three thousand disguised cavalry, had Ran Mindao severely wounded, three deputy generals dead and six injured. In the main camp tent, chaos reigned as the few remaining capable leaders frantically ordered soldiers to surround the three thousand cavalry.

Just as the three thousand cavalry fell into bitter fighting, Qin Chang Ge arrived with her main force, her timing precisely calculated.

Qin Chang Ge ordered forced marches at any cost, finding local guides to take shortcuts through Biyelshan’s mountain paths between Ping and Ling provinces. At super-speed, covering the distance in only four hours, she appeared like heavenly troops before the eighty thousand Northern Wei army.

Endless waves of troops appeared like an ocean, a dark line of death on the horizon. Gazing at this line, the Northern Wei army’s faces turned ashen, as if seeing doomsday approaching with Death screaming overhead.

They weren’t the obedient Youzhou army—armies are like blades, the fault always lies with the hand wielding the knife, while the blade itself can immediately serve a new master.

They were enemy forces standing on soil they had repeatedly invaded and harassed, surrounded by hateful, hostile gazes.

Intending to give Northern Wei a warning through intimidation and devastating tactics, Qin Chang Ge was so arrogantly fierce she didn’t even arrange formations. Under her rolling banners, she waved her hand and directly ordered: “Eliminate them!”

Galloping horses with flying reins, smoke and dust swirling, hoofbeats shattering Biyelshan’s peaks, startling up a cold, murderous moon. The mounted warriors took down white-feathered carved bows, racing like lightning across the vast plains, roaring battle songs condensed from countless military souls and blood from the infinite vastness of all directions.

“Xiliang! Vast flowing rivers, boundless territory!

Galloping ten thousand li, wind dragons and cloud tigers!

Xiliang! Million strong armies, driving out all enemies!

Heaven’s way incomplete, waiting for us to mend!

Xiliang! Banner of nine provinces, dancing across four seas!

See our people, ruled by Xiao and Qin!”

The wind on the northern plains in the ninth month penetrated men’s chests endlessly and unobstructed, transforming into resonant, prolonged northern tunes and excited roars of satisfying slaughter.

Kill! Kill them—these enemies who had plundered their homeland leaving not a blade of grass. Now it’s our turn to leave you not a breath!

The weapons in hands that had nearly pierced the chests of relatives and countrymen now finally struck where they belonged!

This was truly satisfying!

Except for the hundred thousand troops guarding the central army, Qin Chang Ge boldly threw the remaining two hundred thousand into battle all at once!

I. Will. Drown. You. With. Human. Waves.

Spears rising and falling, blades chopping and withdrawing, swords thrusting and stopping, whips flashing and flying—countless weapons tangled chaotically together. Countless blood and flesh scattered across the broad foothills of Biyelshan. The killing instinct in human nature was infinitely aroused amid desolate howls and stirring battle cries. Everyone slaughtered with near-madness, destroying those once-living limbs, supple muscles, fine heads, and bright eyes one by one under cold, blood-soaked weapons of every kind.

That night, at the foot of Biyelshan, ten thousand people shared the bright moon, ten thousand people shared life and death, ten thousand people’s hot blood saturated the dark earth beneath their feet, ten thousand white bones became phosphorescent fires that flickered and danced like stars among next year’s tall grass.

Many years later, those who came after carefully opened heavy history books, falling silent with solemn respect while reading this page. Their meaningful gazes penetrated the pages, seeing the blood-soaked fierce beginning that truly set in motion the struggle for supremacy, truly opened the curtain on the war of six nations, years ago on the map of seas and lands.

“Fourth year of Qianyuan, thirteenth day of the ninth month: Annihilated Ran Mindao’s army at the foot of Biyelshan, killed over seventy thousand, the rest fled into the wilderness and were executed by civilians. Of eighty thousand Wei troops, none returned alive. That day, blood soaked three feet deep; the following year, vegetation flourished extremely.”

Known in history as: The Battle of Biyeshan.

Eighty thousand homeless souls forever wandering in foreign lands became sacrificial offerings to the ambitions of those in power. From then on, the foot of Biyelshan was left with legends of ghostly soldiers forming ranks on stormy nights and spirits wailing in the darkness.

The most direct effect of this battle was that before formally declaring war with Northern Wei, border civilians could sleep peacefully with their doors open—the Northern Wei army didn’t dare let even a sneeze cross the border.

Of course, the creator of this legend, Student Qin Chang Ge, wouldn’t care one bit about dead people and ghosts. On the path to imperial unification, the soil must be soaked with blood before the flowers of empire can bloom.

She knew that formal war with Northern Wei would soon begin, but not yet. Northern Wei’s internal situation was currently treacherous—Wei Tianqi, imprisoned in the cold palace yet still commanding loyal ministers, had miraculously survived assassination attempts. The impatient Wei Tianzi had been forced to personally lead troops into Wei Tianqi’s palace under the pretext of “searching the palace,” only to have his will collapsed by Concubine Chun’s strange melody, even suffering severe injuries himself. Subsequently, Concubine Chun simply invited both brothers to enjoy house arrest in the traveling palace while she planned to rule from behind a screen. However, due to overwhelming opposition and not yet controlling military forces, she abandoned this plan. It was said that the imperial seal remained with Wei Tianqi, the military command tokens were with Wei Tianzi, and Concubine Chun controlled the palace’s imperial guard. Northern Wei had changed rulers three times in several months, yet none could sit firmly on the dragon throne. Like a tangled mess, the three confronted each other, each possessing enough power to make the others wary, forming an unprecedented strange “iron triangle.”

Regarding Concubine Chun, intelligence from Qin Chang Ge’s Phoenix Alliance agents in Northern Wei indicated that Wei Tianqi had always been wary of her. During her years in the palace, though favored, she was constrained everywhere until Wei Tianzi’s usurpation. Not knowing this palace concubine’s background, Wei Tianzi had released this beautiful serpent. As for why the two had clearly reached an agreement yet Concubine Chun struck against her bedmate again, and what exactly happened during the incident, this remained secret.

Qin Chang Ge wasn’t anxious. She had a premonition that she would eventually face this mantis-like woman (mantises have a habit of killing their mates). She even felt that her consumption of Northern Wei might make the Wei brothers abandon their plans against Xiliang, but Wanyan Chunzhen would not.

When women go mad, they’re naturally more reckless than men.

Qin Chang Ge was too lazy to speculate about a female mantis. She was now busy with proper work—for instance, Li Han’s original responsibilities.

Disaster relief.

The court’s relief grain had long arrived, but disaster victims hadn’t received timely aid. Grain merchants in the markets hoarded and drove up prices. Countless refugees wandered the roads, emaciated and crying for food. Those in power who only remembered to pursue their own positions and profits while ignoring the people would naturally be abandoned by Heaven’s way.

Li Han and the rest of the Cao family had been escorted to the capital. Let Xiao Jue worry about these aftermath issues.

Excluding travel time, she had spent only ten days beautifully and cleanly resolving the Youzhou incident, incidentally annihilating Ran Mindao’s army that had most brutally killed border civilians. Her thunderous actions, ability to overturn situations, and ruthless methods instantly spread throughout the realm, shocking all nations and putting them on alert.

The name Zhao Moyan became the three characters spreading fastest and most widely among the six nations.

In Baozi’s words: “Honey, you’re famous!”

Xiao Jue’s decree arrived quickly. Qin Chang Ge’s “acting” was beautifully removed from “Acting Minister,” and now she was ministerial level, truly joining the high-ranking officials of the nation’s highest decision-making body.

A letter was attached to the imperial edict. The eunuch delivering the decree carefully reminded Qin Chang Ge: “His Majesty says the Minister must personally read this.”

Personally read, and “must”—it seemed Xiao Jue was super worried about her…

Qin Chang Ge felt the envelope—quite thick…

That evening, resting at the Youzhou Prefect’s official residence, the new Youzhou Prefect had already taken office. Wen Zhengting, this scholar who still didn’t know whose favor had brought his good fortune, had been promoted to Youzhou Prefect for accurate judgment and timely intelligence during the Youzhou incident, becoming a high official governing one region.

Qin Chang Ge stayed in the front courtyard of the prefect’s residence, unfolding the letter under lamplight.

“Green, green is your collar, distant, distant is my heart.”

The white paper was bright as jade, Huizhou ink gleaming and smooth. On the paper were only these four characters.

Xiao Jue’s handwriting had changed from its usual flowing flourishes—each stroke deliberate and careful. You could tell he had written slowly and deliberately.

As if the writer had concentrated infinite intention and longing into every stroke.

Those full, nearly overflowing ink marks wrote of solitary lamps and shadows in Longzhang Palace, distant thoughts of his beloved and loneliness.

Candlelight flickered. In the dancing shadows, Qin Chang Ge slowly smiled and turned to the next page.

“Green, green is your collar, distant, distant is my heart.”

…

Qin Chang Ge was stunned, her fingers rapidly flipping. The thick stack of papers—every page had these same four characters.

After finishing the last page, Qin Chang Ge leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling in a daze, then chuckled despite herself.

What was this? An alternative love letter?

Suddenly remembering something, she sat up and carefully counted the pages.

Fifty-one pages.

Exactly the number of days from when she left Yingdu until the imperial decree was issued—the days she had been away from him.

In other words, he had written one page each day?

From the moment she departed, stepping out of Longzhang Palace, the emperor gazing at her retreating figure had slowly drawn out writing paper. Among the piles of memorials and urgent state affairs, he quietly bent his head, stroke by stroke writing down his worry and longing.

This was a letter heavier than all the urgent state documents marked as critical.

Love stretched across distance—there was an expression both brief in words yet endless in meaning, every character condensed with deep attachment.

Qin Chang Ge’s fingers unconsciously traced those slightly raised characters where the ink had been thick, stroking each stroke as if trying to caress hidden images from these words.

It seemed like many years ago, yet also seemed close to this moment—that handsome, elegant youth had also written letter after letter to her during battlefield separations amid war and smoke. He always seemed to prefer this way, disliking long treatises to express his feelings, just repeatedly telling the person he cared about:

“Chang Ge, Yunzhou’s battle is fierce—please be careful.”

“Chang Ge, winter comes with snow—please take care.”

“Chang Ge, entering camp, I saw spring branches budding. If you were here, you would surely be delighted… I miss you.”

…

Time sometimes seemed to overlay memories, repeatedly reminding of unforgettable things. Each repetition was a silent yet powerful engraving.

Qin Chang Ge smiled with slight confusion, looking through these fifty-one pages one by one, collecting and placing them back in the envelope.

Standing up, wanting to find a safe place for this letter to avoid being spied on by a certain pervasive fellow, she searched for a while only to helplessly discover that only her person was safest.

Struggling to stuff the envelope into her sleeve, Qin Chang Ge inwardly cursed.

Couldn’t you write fewer pages? Ugh… my sleeve is so heavy.

She didn’t want to remind herself that she could actually discard many pages—after all, the content was identical.

…

Strolling outside, the man looking up at clouds in the moonlight was also soaked in moonlight’s clear brightness.

Bright white horse in that empty valley, a bundle of fresh grass, that person like jade.

Qin Chang Ge gently approached, tilting her head to smile at him: “Night is deep and wind strong—be careful not to catch cold.”

With this head tilt, she again saw that familiar, startling expression in Feihuan’s eyes as he was lost in thought.

Gently turning his head, his gaze fell directly on Qin Chang Ge’s sleeve. Chu Feihuan’s smile was somewhat strange: “He sent you a letter?”

Qin Chang Ge made an embarrassed sound, growing more puzzled. Feihuan had always maintained distance from her and never inquired about her privacy, yet recently he seemed strange—he appeared unwilling to see anything related to Xiao Jue.

With a comforting smile, Qin Chang Ge said: “Nothing much was said.”

Chu Feihuan turned back to look at the moon, silent for a long time. Both their breathing was fine, scattered in the cold night wind of the northern region’s early autumn. In the tranquility was a thread of restlessness.

“Chang Ge, what is your greatest wish in this life?” After a while, Chu Feihuan spoke: “To become his empress again?”

“I haven’t thought about it,” Qin Chang Ge answered honestly. “What I’m thinking about now is revenge.”

Silent for a long time, Chu Feihuan said softly: “Chang Ge.”

“Mm?”

“Would you be willing to abandon revenge and hide in the mountains and forests?” Chu Feihuan turned, his gaze startlingly bright, staring intently at her. “Your enemies are too dark and powerful, while you now are too burdened and weary. Do you really think it’s necessary to use this new life that could be lived easily to avenge something already past?”

The moonlight was cold, the frost on low-hanging flower leaves looking even more frigid. Qin Chang Ge gently crushed an icy leaf between her fingertips, saying softly: “Feihuan, this isn’t something you would say.”

Chu Feihuan fell silent.

“It’s not that I want revenge—they may not let me go,” Qin Chang Ge smiled. “I can’t truly spend my whole life as a palace maid. I can’t avoid acknowledging my son, letting him be an orphan randomly calling people ‘mother’ on the streets. Those people—not finding me for a day, a year, doesn’t mean they’ll never find me. All I can do is delay their discovery while preparing and building my strength for the final confrontation.”

Staring into Chu Feihuan’s eyes, Qin Chang Ge didn’t relax: “Feihuan, the enemy is powerful. If I hide in the mountains, with my solitary strength, I may not be able to protect Rong’er and myself. You understand this principle—why have you changed your stance now?”

This time Chu Feihuan didn’t avoid her gaze, looking directly at her: “I feel sorry for you. I very much want a chance to take good care of you, to give you a truly peaceful and comfortable life without the burden of hatred.”

He reached out, covering Qin Chang Ge’s hand. His slightly cool palm transmitted deep consideration and warmth: “Chang Ge, I think the time I can occupy of yours isn’t much…”

Placing her palm over his lips, Qin Chang Ge said gently: “Don’t say that. It won’t happen.”

But Chu Feihuan gently kissed Qin Chang Ge’s palm, light as kissing a newly bloomed flower.

Qin Chang Ge startled, her face reddening slightly in the darkness, instinctively wanting to withdraw her hand.

Chu Feihuan immediately reached up, grasping her hand, not letting it move from his lips. He was rarely so insistent and forceful. Qin Chang Ge looked deeply at him and gave up trying to withdraw.

But Chu Feihuan didn’t look at her, only slowly moving her hand to rest against his forehead, his voice low like a moan: “Chang Ge… Chang Ge… look… I’m probably delirious… you don’t need to mind me…”

Her fingers trembling, feeling some heat from his forehead under her palm, Qin Chang Ge stared at Chu Feihuan in shock—not from the heat, but from his unprecedented vulnerability and confusion. What kind of person was Feihuan? What weighty concerns could make such a strong, resolute man confused and incoherent?

Qin Chang Ge slowly approached him, saying quietly: “Feihuan… I’ll ans—”

“Fire!”

A great shout rang in their ears, filled with infinite alarm, making both suddenly look up. Only then did they discover the granary storing food in Youzhou’s southwest corner was blazing with towering flames. Both had been facing away from the granary, each lost in chaotic thoughts, never noticing when the fire started.

Suddenly turning, Qin Chang Ge asked Wen Zhengting, who came running: “What happened? How did it suddenly catch fire? Have people gone to put it out?”

“They’ve gone—all the officials and clerks have rushed there,” Wen Zhengting’s face was blackened by smoke, only his bright eyes visible, full of anxiety. “The fire just started, but it’s very fierce, as if multiple fires began simultaneously. Very violent—I was still a zhang away when my forehead hair was singed. Impossible to get close.”

Arson!

Qin Chang Ge and Chu Feihuan exchanged glances, both thinking the same thing. Originally planning to distribute grain tomorrow for disaster relief, the news had spread throughout the city. Refugees from all directions were continuously streaming into Youzhou city. If this happened now and desperate refugees rioted, the consequences would be unthinkable!

As for who set the fire and why, there was no time to think carefully now.

Baozi rubbed his eyes and wandered out, immediately startled by the red sky: “Fire!”

He seemed very afraid of fire, immediately jumping into Chu Feihuan’s arms. Qin Chang Ge looked at him, knowing that the fire when he was one had left this child with unconscious terrifying shadows. His subconscious greatly feared fire, which was good—it saved him from insisting on running to see the excitement.

Hurriedly saying “I’ll go look,” just as she was about to step forward, Chu Feihuan said: “Military grain.”

Understanding his point, Qin Chang Ge nodded: “Got it.” She rushed to the granary with Wen Zhengting, seeing countless refugees flowing toward the south of the city along the way. In front of the granary, countless people trying to rush forward to fight the fire were driven back by towering flames. Seeing rescue of the grain was hopeless, many starving refugees began crying on the ground. In the bright red firelight, their dark faces were washed by tears into ditches, their barely clothed bodies revealing skeletal thinness.

Watching their hope for life cut off before their eyes, the refugees’ tragic cries shook the heavens. News spread layer by layer as countless people wept bitterly. Watching the granary gradually burn to bare ground, all of Youzhou city was shrouded in desperate wailing.

Someone pounded the ground fiercely until bloody: “…My whole family… waited five days… the youngest is dying…”

Beside him, a woman thin as dry kindling held a barely breathing child, tears flowing like springs though she could no longer cry aloud.

Wen Zhengting’s tears were already streaming down. About to stamp his foot and speak, he was grabbed by Qin Chang Ge.

“There are hundreds of thousands of refugees in the city now—how many can you save?” Qin Chang Ge watched the dark masses, her expression cold: “Once you save this child, countless hands will immediately reach toward you, drowning you. If you open the prefect’s residence, countless people will immediately surge in, crushing the entire residence, then people will die and be injured.”

“This…” Wen Zhengting stared at the dying child: “Should I do nothing? I’m the governor of this region—should I watch refugees die because they weren’t timely rescued? By the time the court gathers another batch of grain and transports it thousands of li, most people here will be dead!”

“Now it’s not a question of gathering grain,” Qin Chang Ge said coldly: “Now it’s a question of how you and I survive.”

Before she finished speaking, a great roar erupted from the wailing crowd.

“Those dog officials! They won’t provide relief! They burned the grain! They want to starve us!”

“Dog officials!”

“Kill them!”

“There are two officials here!”

“Throw them into the fire!”

Desperate crowds are most easily incited to anger and hatred. With just a few words, the refugees’ riot began like mountain floods and tsunamis, unstoppable.

Countless arms rose, countless people rushed forward, picking up nearby bricks, stones, wooden sticks, even using their own heads to try to bash or ram these “dog officials” to death.

The clerks and soldiers of the prefect’s residence desperately blocked them, but compared to hundreds of thousands of refugees, this manpower was weak as a drop in the ocean. They were quickly pushed down stumbling, then many mud-stained feet rushed up for a trampling.

The momentum of tens of thousands roaring through the streets immediately crushed everything placed along the roadside. With a rumbling crash, a low, dangerous building beside the street was squeezed down, and the falling earth blocks and thatch were instantly swept under countless feet and trampled away.

The black tide advanced like a hurricane. Wherever it passed, like giant waves rolling over, everything was unrecognizable.

Qin Chang Ge fled in near-embarrassment.

Before incomparably powerful human tides, individual strength was extremely slight, especially when she couldn’t kill at will.

Qin Chang Ge couldn’t help but smile bitterly—fortune’s wheel turns. A few days ago, she had watched from across the river as Cao Guangshi and Li Han struggled under attack from ten thousand troops. Now it was her turn.

No, she was more unlucky than them. At least they had central army guards, while her army was stationed outside the city and couldn’t enter. Beside her wasn’t a brave companion but a burdensome scholar with no self-defense ability.

Helplessly channeling her full power, Qin Chang Ge grabbed Wen Zhengting and fled toward a narrow street ahead—escaping to narrow places where crowds couldn’t enter in large numbers would reduce pressure.

Her Biluo Divine Art at full power meant everyone was knocked far away wherever she passed. Qin Chang Ge didn’t harm or kill—at this time, harming people was suicide.

Relying on powerful martial arts, she broke through the surging crowd into that street, a long trail of relentless black human tide behind her.

Grabbing the sweating Wen Zhengting: “You immediately go to Lingzhou and transfer military grain from Lingzhou’s granary! I’ll stay here responsible for stabilizing the refugees’ emotions!”

“Are you crazy!” Wen Zhengting stared wide-eyed: “Military grain cannot be transferred without imperial decree—unauthorized use is considered treason, punishable by execution of nine family generations. How could they possibly transfer military grain for you!”

Qin Chang Ge angrily said: “I told you to go, so go! I’ll bear all responsibility!”

“I’m not afraid of responsibility!” Wen Zhengting immediately glared back: “I’m a civil official with no soldiers or followers. Going alone, will they listen to me? Only you can go—you have an army outside the city and martial arts!”

Her eyes brightening, Qin Chang Ge said: “Do you know that if I leave, you’ll surely die?”

“A great man dies when he dies! Being buried in an eight-chi wide grave or among the people—what’s the difference?” Wen Zhengting’s gaze was outstanding, standing straight as a pine.

“Good!” Qin Chang Ge patted his shoulder while fending off people: “I didn’t misjudge you!”

“Hah?”

Qin Chang Ge ignored Wen Zhengting’s bewilderment, channeling her true qi to somehow make the refugees quiet down and preserve this scholar’s life. But suddenly commotion arose outside the crowd, and after the commotion, miraculously it gradually quieted.

Startled, just as Qin Chang Ge was about to speak, she suddenly heard voices ahead.

That voice didn’t sound like one person but like many people shouting in unison.

“Please let me through—let me enter to die together with them.”

Startled, Qin Chang Ge’s face paled. The refugees looked at each other in surprise—this content was truly shocking. Who didn’t know that being surrounded by ten thousand was certain death? Yet someone wanted to enter voluntarily? In their amazement, they forgot anger and pursuit. The shouting gradually stopped, and the crowd finally completely quieted.

Only the crackling sounds of the great fire burning in the distance remained, then someone coughed.

His voice was low and weak, clearly indicating serious illness.

Under everyone’s gaze, he said:

“Everyone, please let me enter. The person you’re pursuing and surrounding is my brother. If I cannot save him, I hope to die together with him.”

Everyone fell silent, all looking at the pale man sitting in a wheelchair. In the moonlight his face was white as cold jade, his gaze calm yet resolute. He was so thin and weak, completely powerless—even his initial attempt to call loudly enough to quiet the commotion required dozens of guards shouting in unison. But just looking at his eyes, everyone knew he wasn’t joking.

The wind carried the burnt smell of flames and metallic scent. A crescent moon hung precariously on withered treetops. Under the starry sky, tens of thousands of eyes watched the silent, quiet man as tens of thousands suddenly held their breath.

They heard him say: “Just now, the one you were pursuing, intending to kill, is Minister of Justice Zhao Moyan. Since taking office, he has consecutively solved the case of Duke Li’s son raping and murdering a commoner girl, and the Ministry of Justice bribery case of substituting death row prisoners. Those he saved were all poor common people; those he killed were all corrupt officials who committed crimes. Just a few days ago, he dissolved rebel armies with a single word without using a single soldier, preventing Youping and Ling provinces from falling into warfare and rebel cavalry, protecting the people of three regions from displacement.”

He continued: “Such an official, you call a dog official; such a person who has never wronged the people, you want to kill; I have no power to stop you, but I can choose to die together with such a person you don’t know to be grateful for.”

He said: “Let me enter—I’m disabled and pose no threat to you.”

The last sentence made Qin Chang Ge, who had been silently listening, waver.

After Chu Feihuan finished speaking, he pressed his lips together and said no more. People silently watched him—his sorrowful yet noble features, his legs that could no longer move, this man who looked at no one but gazed distantly toward the center of the crowd, toward that target of universal condemnation.

Finally, someone sighed deeply.

Then silently walked away.

Then another.

And another.

More and more people walked away. The blocking, crowded mass quickly opened a path.

A path leading to Chu Feihuan and Qin Chang Ge.

Leaning against the wall behind her, Qin Chang Ge bit her lip. Since her rebirth, tears appeared in her eyes for the first time.

Sharing life and death—many years ago, that elegant youth had said this to her very lightly and carelessly.

Some people have sparse words but actions heavy as a thousand jun, like him.

In her previous life and this life, he had always been thus, never failing her.

What heart-rending attachment and persistence could create such silent perseverance through life and death?

He even set aside his pride, using his own deeply painful wounds to exchange for a chance to accompany her to death.

…

In Qin Chang Ge’s wavering tears, Chu Feihuan calmly drove his wheelchair forward slowly. His gaze carefully examined Qin Chang Ge up and down, seeing she wasn’t injured, his expression relaxed.

Qin Chang Ge closed her eyes. A crystal drop slowly formed on her long, black eyelashes, about to fall yet not falling.

As if after a very long time, in the complete silence under the cold, soundless moon, tens of thousands heard that extremely slight yet thunder-like sound in their hearts.

“Drop!”

Light as swan’s down, heavy as ten thousand mountains.

Piercing through distant years, shattering long-frozen ice, stirring up magnificent waves in the surging tide of life.

This landscape dyed with rouge was only for this moment’s blooming.

Opening her eyes, Qin Chang Ge was already smiling, her smile clear and beautiful as flowing wind and swirling snow.

She extended her hand, saying:

“Alright, together.”

The creaking wheels rolled over the ground. That tear quickly disappeared on the stone pavement, leaving only a faint mark. When night wind blew, even the mark was gone.

But some related memories had already been deeply etched.

Stopping beside Qin Chang Ge, Chu Feihuan smiled at her with weary relief, saying gently: “The refugees’ angriest moment has passed… Now, I’m here and can continue calming their emotions. You go transfer the grain.”

Looking up, Qin Chang Ge’s gaze passed through distant Youzhou’s city gates toward Lingzhou granary’s direction, then said resolutely: “Good.”

Turning, she called loudly: “Everyone, though the granary is destroyed, the court will not be inactive!”

With a thunderous sound, refugees all stared in amazement, looking up at her.

Qin Chang Ge already said to Wen Zhengting: “Prefect Wen.”

“This official is here.” Wen Zhengting solemnly bowed.

“Please immediately arrange refugee registration, sectional placement. The seriously ill and dying may enter medical facilities for free treatment. Open the prefect’s office and all levels of government offices—those over seventy and children under three may enter to rest.”

“Yes.”

“Order all grain merchants and wealthy households throughout the city—except for keeping sufficient household grain, all remaining stores must be donated to the prefect’s office. Arrange specialists to distribute first according to various situations, with critically urgent cases receiving priority!”

“Yes.”

“If any refuse to surrender grain or hoard for speculation,” Qin Chang Ge smiled with murderous intent, “kill them.”

“Yes!”

“If His Majesty blames us, I’ll take responsibility.”

“This official isn’t afraid!”

“Good!!!”

Cheers erupted below, with people shouting: “We wronged you—you’re good officials!”

Others loudly questioned: “The city has limited surplus grain—with so many people, some will still starve!”

“Let me out,” Qin Chang Ge said coldly: “I swear, within one day, I will transfer grain for rescue!”

Another thunderous sound like stones thrown into hot oil, splashing countless exclamations. Half-believing yet hopeful gazes lit up like lamps, all staring intently at Qin Chang Ge.

Someone shouted: “You’re not planning to escape!”

Immediately another chaotic chorus of agreement—these refugees had been deceived by officials too often. Promising disaster relief, delaying again and again—how dare they easily trust again?

With a somewhat tragic smile, turning back and meeting Chu Feihuan’s gaze, his determination made Qin Chang Ge sigh slightly.

Stepping forward, pointing at Chu Feihuan, Qin Chang Ge said: “My brother is here—he won’t leave. He’s your hostage. Everyone, you just saw him voluntarily face death for me. If Zhao Moyan abandons him and flees alone before thousands of people today, I won’t need to be human anymore.”

The crowd’s clamoring gradually quieted as everyone fell into thought. Yes, under such circumstances, doing such things before the entire city’s military and civilians would make preserving both official position and life very difficult afterward.

They looked at each other, all beginning to waver.

This was also Chu Feihuan’s intention in entering and insisting on being a hostage—otherwise, how could Chang Ge escape this way?

After a long time, the crowd that had closed ranks finally opened again, a winding path leading toward the city gate direction.

But Qin Chang Ge didn’t immediately rush through.

She stood silently for a while, then turned her head, saying gently to Chu Feihuan: “Wait for me.”

With a slight smile, understanding her worry, Chu Feihuan nodded: “Don’t worry.”

His features were serene as a quiet pool under the flowing firelight and moonlight.

“I’ll always be here, waiting for you.”