The dawn rose, a single ray of light like a sword across the heavens, cleaving through the darkness.

On the sunrise plains, a young man galloped his horse, his robes cutting through the northern winds like a blade through the emerald and golden landscape.

His body and horse merged into one line, a sharp black trajectory that entered one’s vision one second and vanished without a trace the next.

Or perhaps he was like an arrow shot across the vast earth, thundering through the boundless emerald fields with the sound of wind.

Qin Chang Ge rode alone, racing toward Lingzhou, which bordered Youzhou.

Moving large armies required time. She could no longer afford to go to the military camps outside the city to command such arrangements. She could only order her subordinates to follow later while she set out alone, racing against time to reclaim everyone’s chance at survival.

Chasing wind and moon, galloping until dawn, ahead—fifteen li outside Lingzhou city—a complete town-like cluster of continuous buildings appeared before her eyes. Within the town were distributed two-story tall buildings, all large and sturdy warehouses.

She had reached the Changlin Granary.

The Lingzhou Changlin Granary was Xiliang’s designated imperial military grain depot. From the founding of the nation, there had been a clear edict: store ten thousand dan of grain, replace it annually, do not open the granary except during wartime by imperial decree—anyone who takes even a mustard seed of grain without permission shall be executed.

The grain keeper Ji Zhen held a third-rank position and was a native northerner who, because he wasn’t favored by Youzhou Governor Cao Guangshi, had been squeezed out to become a grain keeper who counted grain sacks daily.

Lord Ji, having suffered setbacks in his official career, was stubborn and obstinate by nature. He didn’t believe there was anything wrong with his conduct or character, attributing all his misfortune to being unrecognized for his talents and having bad timing. From then on, he constantly sighed with melancholy and daily drowned himself in wine.

When Qin Chang Ge galloped straight into the granary, he was in the town’s small tavern listening to music and getting drunk.

When Qin Chang Ge announced her identity, Lord Ji, who was two ranks lower, reluctantly set down his wine cup and tremblingly bowed.

Qin Chang Ge extended her hand to help him up, but before she could, Ji Zhen had already straightened his back and glanced sideways at Qin Chang Ge with secret resentment in his heart. Why was this young man before him, still wet behind the ears, already a first-rank official in the central imperial government, while he had been mixed up in officialdom for many years with graying temples, yet was still just a grain keeper in this godforsaken place with nothing to do but catch lice, earning neither oil nor water?

Therefore, when Qin Chang Ge mentioned borrowing grain, he immediately shook his head without thinking. Perhaps feeling the request was too absurd, his tone couldn’t help but carry some contempt for this “ignorant brat who doesn’t know his place”: “Lord Zhao, surely I don’t need to teach you about national laws? You speak of borrowing grain as if it’s simple, but you’re asking for my head. How can I disregard the law and hand over my family’s lives to you for nothing?”

“I said, if the court blames anyone, I will bear full responsibility,” Qin Chang Ge suppressed her anger. She had no choice—her people hadn’t arrived yet, and without his support and cooperation, she couldn’t get the grain out.

“You’ll bear full responsibility?” Ji Zhen looked at Qin Chang Ge with bleary drunken eyes, unhurriedly smiling leisurely: “Minister Zhao, such youthful advancement, truly extraordinary in spirit, able to swallow rainbows… But unfortunately, your head isn’t much heavier than mine, is it?”

He brazenly sized up Qin Chang Ge, even gesturing at her head as if weighing its worth, then pretentiously shook his head. Borrowing wine to feign madness, he deliberately insulted this young dignitary who had come alone and made him uncomfortable. His accompanying soldiers immediately joined in with sycophantic giggles.

Taking a deep breath, Qin Chang Ge decided to endure him once more, smiling: “Naturally my head cannot compare to Lord Ji’s weightiness and capacity. But Lord Ji need not worry—before coming, I already submitted a memorial to the court. As they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. His Majesty is deeply benevolent and magnanimous. He surely wouldn’t want to leave the granary unused while allowing Youzhou to be filled with starving corpses and disaster victims rioting, disturbing the people’s livelihood. He will certainly approve it.”

“Sir, your words are mistaken. You keep mentioning His Majesty, but do you remember what His Majesty said—that military grain is the nation’s strategic reserve and must never be used lightly? Currently, all nations are restless, all coveting our Xiliang territory. If you use the military grain and Northern Wei attacks, what will I use to feed the army when His Majesty needs it? If we lose battles because of this, aren’t those dead people also human?”

After a long silence, looking at Ji Zhen who was smugly pleased with himself, thinking he had rendered her speechless with his supreme eloquence and formidable debating skills, Qin Chang Ge smiled slightly: “I was inconsiderate. Thank you for the teaching.”

She even bowed slightly to show her apology. Ji Zhen symbolically helped her up and satisfiedly stroked his beard, laughing: “No wonder Minister Zhao achieved success at such a young age. Just this humble and gracious manner, knowing to correct mistakes, this magnanimous bearing alone lives up to your reputation…”

Qin Chang Ge’s smile became even more humble: “You flatter me. Lord Ji is a respected elder and predecessor. I should properly observe the etiquette of a student seeking instruction.”

Ji Zhen laughed heartily with satisfaction, beckoning: “Minister Zhao, I admire your heart of concern for country and people, but those dirty lowly people—if a few die, so be it. In a few days, grain shipments will arrive anyway. If they riot, just send troops to suppress them. There are plenty of solutions. It’s not worth our risk for these ungrateful lowly people.”

“Sir speaks with the wisdom of experience,” Qin Chang Ge simply lifted her robes and unhurriedly sat down at the table. She seemed lost in thought for a moment at the table, then shook the wine pot, smiling: “I am deeply moved by your words. May I borrow flowers to offer to Buddha and toast you a cup?”

Ji Zhen laughingly protested he didn’t dare, but immediately sat down.

Smiling, she toasted Ji Zhen with a cup of wine. Watching him drain it in one gulp, she glanced at the guard soldiers and said: “I feel like old friends with you at first meeting, and your guidance has given me deep insight. I have some private words I’d like to share with you, but…”

Ji Zhen immediately waved the soldiers away: “Go, go! Don’t interfere with my conversation with Minister Zhao!”

He moved closer to Qin Chang Ge with a beaming face, thinking that perhaps by befriending this young dignitary and winning him over, he might be able to transfer out of this godforsaken place and get a lucrative position.

“What I want to say is…” Qin Chang Ge looked at him, speaking slowly: “You should be confused now…”

Stunned for a moment, before he could react, Ji Zhen’s mind suddenly felt dizzy, but he didn’t completely lose consciousness. He only felt the scenery before him suddenly sway, rippling and undulating like water waves. The young man’s elegant face across from him also became strangely distorted.

A voice came from very far away, blurry but reassuring, with a gentle, comforting quality that made one unwilling to refuse answering.

“How many deputy keepers does the granary have?”

“How is the granary opened?”

“Where are the keys? How are they used?”

“Who are the deputy grain keepers? Where are they now? What are their personalities like?”

…

He answered everything, completely unaware of what the other person was asking. Finally, Ji Zhen hazily saw the young man empty the cups and pot of wine, stand up straight, and heard him say flatly: “…I originally intended to kill you. I even bowed to you as if paying respects at a grave, but at the last moment I gave up.”

The air fell silent, and the young man was quiet for a moment.

It seemed like much later when he vaguely heard him say: “…I want to accumulate merit for Feihuan as much as possible.”

In his final glimpse, he saw the young man’s resolute figure walking away through the door.

The frontier town of Changlin, after many peaceful years, welcomed a chilling scene on what appeared to be the most ordinary of days.

Qin Chang Ge, the deadly Minister who had climbed the ranks through lethal means, once again left the local residents with unforgettable memories of her in the town of Changlin.

Opening the Changlin Granary doors required all deputy grain keepers and Ji Zhen to be present together, each holding a key, making opening records in the relevant documents, before they could all be used together.

How could Qin Chang Ge have time to find them one by one and wait for the doors to open? She had to have all the granaries opened before noon, when the main army serving as the grain transport force arrived. Only then could she return in time as promised to give an answer to the hundreds of thousands of disaster victims who were eagerly waiting.

The disaster victims’ emotions were now like a powder keg—irritable and agitated, unable to withstand the slightest provocation or setback. Qin Chang Ge really wanted to set a more generous deadline, but the disaster victims certainly wouldn’t want to wait that long. Every moment that passed would cause more critically ill victims to die, and the more people died, the thinner their patience and trust would wear.

One day and one night was the limit.

Qin Chang Ge also didn’t want to delay. She would rather exhaust half her life racing to gather grain in one day and night than let Feihuan stay in that dangerous situation for one moment longer.

No one could afford to wait. Therefore, anyone who obstructs me is my enemy.

Leaving the tavern, Qin Chang Ge immediately grabbed ten soldiers, coldly flicking a pill into each of their mouths with a sneer, telling them these were Life-Demanding Soul-Snatching Heartbreak Perfect Tonic Pills that would kill at the third watch and not spare them until the fourth. If they wanted to live, each must find every granary’s deputy keeper within a quarter-hour and assemble at the granary.

Thus the Changlin people witnessed in amazement the spectacle of grain warehouse soldiers, normally so lazy they dragged their feet with every step, running at speeds rivaling galloping horses.

In less than a quarter-hour, Qin Chang Ge was waiting at the granary for all the deputy grain keepers.

Her first words were: “Did you bring the keys?”

Ten people showed surprised expressions. Qin Chang Ge threw over an official document with a flourish. Everyone looked at it and bowed together: “Minister!”

Qin Chang Ge smiled: “Open the warehouse.”

She pointed to Ji Zhen, whom she had brought to the granary entrance and who looked soft and limp as mud: “The Youzhou relief grain was burned, and starving people are on the verge of rioting. I came to borrow grain. If there are any consequences later, they have nothing to do with you. Lord Ji has already been persuaded by me.”

She bit down hard on the words “persuaded.” Everyone looked at Ji Zhen’s condition—who knew what method had been used to “persuade” him? Most people didn’t want to be “persuaded” in such a manner. Besides, this Lord Zhao before them had quite a reputation—the God of Death.

Faced with the God of Death before them versus punishment that had not yet arrived, choosing the lesser of two evils, everyone obediently took out their keys.

But two people stubbornly stood there, neither speaking nor moving.

Qin Chang Ge looked over, smiling, and gently asked: “Leng Chao? Kuang Jianqi?”

Those two looked at each other with surprise in their eyes, but still brazenly and stiffly saluted: “Yes!”

Staring at these two deputy officials who supposedly had very hard backing and therefore very bad tempers, Qin Chang Ge asked politely: “Do you gentlemen have objections?”

Leng Chao stepped forward, his words hard as hailstones: “I have no other intention. What I mean is, opening the warehouse is a major matter. Should we first send a document to the court and wait for approval before opening the warehouse—”

“Crack!”

A human figure flew into the air!

Then crashed heavily into the granary door!

Qin Chang Ge’s kick flew out like thunder, lifting Leng Chao straight up and sending him flying sideways. His back slammed against the heavy iron door with a bone-chilling thud. Leng Chao cried out and spat a large mouthful of fresh blood, sliding softly down the iron door to the ground.

Nine people stepped back in unison. Kuang Jianqi’s face was bloodless.

Qin Chang Ge smiled and stepped forward. The nine men stepped back again.

No one dared approach within three feet of her.

“Hundreds of thousands of disaster victims in Youzhou, because their only hope for survival was destroyed, are now in despair surrounding all of Youzhou city. If I cannot borrow grain today, it won’t be one person who dies, but thousands and tens of thousands—an entire city,” staring into Kuang Jianqi’s eyes, Qin Chang Ge spoke slowly: “Compared to many people dying, I don’t mind killing ten of you, because I don’t have time to waste words with you. Now I’ll ask one more time. After this question, whether people continue to die or live is your decision.”

She spoke word by word:

“Where. Are. The. Keys?”

Clanging sounds rang out as nine keys were produced one after another, even Kuang Jianqi grimly took out his key. Qin Chang Ge waved her hand, and a clerk obediently brought over the record book. Ten people, including the unconscious Leng Chao and the insensible Ji Zhen, were dragged over to press their fingerprints.

The keys matched one by one. Heavy iron mechanisms slowly turned. With a thunderous sound, the warehouse doors opened. The clear fragrance of rice mixed with the slightly astringent smell of herbs and grains surged out.

This was the scent of life.

In the granaries piled high as hills, everything was full of grain. Qin Chang Ge mentally calculated the total amount of grain and finally showed her first genuine smile since last night.

Turning around, brilliant sunlight streamed down from the warehouse’s ventilation windows above, illuminating the bright white road ahead. In the distance on that road, dark masses of people gradually appeared—the main army coming to collect grain had arrived.

The journey there had been heavy with pressure; the return would be urgent as flying.

Qin Chang Ge still preceded the grain transport troops, returning early. Leaving Feihuan, Baozi and the others in that volatile city made her truly uneasy. Returning early to announce the good news would also let Feihuan be relieved from danger sooner.

Following directions from townspeople, she took a shortcut through a forest, around a low hill and marsh, which could get her to Youzhou two hours earlier than the main road.

Under the early autumn evening, the grassland colors were magnificent. The golden crow was about to set but hadn’t yet sunk. Behind myriad dense clouds was a trace of pale lunar shadow. The distant mountain colors were particularly beautiful under the frank sunlight. As far as the eye could see, all was vast sky and grand scenery. On the plain, tall grass surged like waves—rolling golden waves.

A person galloped through the waves.

Only the magnificent black horse flashed with dark light, meteor-like speed, turning and skimming grass and flowers in the blink of an eye. The road surface gradually lost its initial flatness as she reached a dark forest.

Qin Chang Ge looked up at the forest, her gaze flashing. According to martial world rules, when encountering forests, don’t enter. It was nearly nightfall now, and this forest was larger and denser than imagined—by rights, she shouldn’t enter.

With a light laugh and a shake of the reins, Qin Chang Ge continued forward.

Being scared away before even seeing danger wasn’t her style.

Before entering the forest, she noticed traces of someone making camp and cooking on a dirt slope by the roadside. On the ground were uncleaned tree branches that had served as firewood, carefully stuffed into rock crevices. Qin Chang Ge pulled them out, looked at the quantity, and felt the temperature of that patch of ground.

More than ten people, who had left about an hour ago.

Although she knew that anyone appearing here at this time definitely wouldn’t be ordinary travelers, Qin Chang Ge didn’t take it seriously and continued forward.

The forest followed the mountain, with tall, lush trees. The ground was covered with fallen leaves accumulated over years, making the horse’s steps somewhat unsteady. Qin Chang Ge rode forward, carefully listening for any unusual sounds.

Unexpectedly, she walked through the entire forest without encountering anything unusual. Qin Chang Ge couldn’t help but laugh at herself for being jumpy at every shadow and urged her horse forward faster.

The horse had just raised its hooves and stepped out not far when suddenly its front legs went soft and half its head pitched downward!

Startled, Qin Chang Ge immediately leaped up, seeing that the ground covered with fallen leaves beneath her feet suddenly began sinking, as if there were a pair of demon hands underground slowly pulling the ground downward. The horse’s body had already sunk halfway in an instant, with all four legs fallen underground.

It was a swamp.

The horse whinnied mournfully, struggling desperately, but swamps always trap those who struggle deeper. The horse sank even more rapidly. Qin Chang Ge stepped onto a nearby tree, felt her usual black silk, realized she couldn’t use it, and quickly tore off her outer robe’s sleeves, tearing them into strips and connecting them into soft fabric strips. With a shake in the air, they wrapped around the horse’s neck with a whoosh.

Using skillful force, Qin Chang Ge slowly pulled the horse outward. She couldn’t lose the horse here—she was counting on it to return to Youzhou quickly.

There was no time to think about why the swamp that was supposedly still some distance from the forest exit was encountered right after leaving the forest. Qin Chang Ge focused only on pulling the horse, but felt the weight of the horse’s body was quite strange—heavier than imaginable, as if someone really was wrestling with her from the bottom of the swamp.

But how could anyone be in this foul, deep swamp that killed all who entered?

Tonight was moonless with thick clouds. Occasionally a star’s dim light flashed like sharp tree tops piercing the sky, revealing pale cracks.

The wind carried a strange fishy smell—not bloody, not metallic, not earthy, but like a mixture of these scents. There was a slightly raw coldness at the nose tip. The temperature seemed to have dropped, but her heart was growing restless.

Qin Chang Ge pressed her back against the tree.

The swamp covered by fallen leaves suddenly began bubbling.

Those sticky bubbles that popped out with a “pa” sound then exploded with another “pa,” and at the moment of explosion, strange snake and insect creatures slowly crawled out of each one.

Centipedes with only one leg, toads with long tails, two-headed geckos, large spiders with horns on their heads.

In short, all were grotesquely shaped, disgusting things rarely seen in the world.

These creatures writhed in heart-shaped patterns on the mud bubbles, seemingly waiting for something.

Finally, the largest bubble slowly burst open, and what crawled out was something that seemed somewhat more normal—a three-legged bright red small snake.

When that snake emerged, all the strange insects immediately bowed their heads. The snake slowly circled like an emperor on tour, then suddenly turned its head and stared at the gradually extracted horse.

It really was “staring”—like human eyes, sinister and evil, with an expression as it stared.

Qin Chang Ge was stunned, suddenly feeling cold in her palms because of a snake’s expression.

That snake suddenly leaped up and quickly coiled around the horse’s neck.

It moved extremely fast, completing a circle in the blink of an eye. After circling, it fell back into the swamp and turned its head, this time “expressively” staring at Qin Chang Ge.

That stare actually seemed to carry a hint of smugness.

At the same time, Qin Chang Ge’s hands suddenly felt empty. She immediately saw blood spurting as the horse’s head suddenly rolled into the swamp as if cleanly severed by someone. The waiting strange insects immediately swarmed over it with their tongues. In moments, only white bones remained of the horse’s head, with only a pair of large eyes intact and untouched. The strange snake unhurriedly went over to enjoy its exclusive feast.

Qin Chang Ge stared at that snake, vaguely remembering a person she had long heard of but never had the chance to meet. Thinking of that person made Qin Chang Ge’s scalp explode. Knowing something was wrong, she immediately threw away the fabric strips and turned to flee.

But she heard someone say softly: “Little Red, eat less. There’s still good supper later.”

Under the starry sky, the horse’s body had completely sunk into the swamp, but a huge arc was slowly rising.

First a semicircular dome shape, then gradually revealing the outline of a human body—a long, round head, a broad body, disproportionate hands and feet. Under the cold starlight, among the rustling wooden leaves, covered in gray-black dripping mud like clothing, a chaotic mass like a ghost rising from underground.

On his unrecognizable face that looked like molded clay, at what was probably the mouth, a round hole was concaved, emitting a voice that wasn’t as deep and unpleasant as imagined, but slightly hoarse with some magnetic gentleness, except that the tail of each word sank down with a somewhat sinister flavor.

He beckoned, and that snake with the very folksy name but very evil temperament immediately came slithering over very obediently.

Meanwhile, Qin Chang Ge, who had leaped up, was already frozen in mid-air—in front of her, behind her, left and right, “Little Reds” had emerged, all “charmingly” staring at her.

She believed that if her fingertip moved even slightly, the Little Reds would definitely giggle and pounce toward any body part of hers that caught their fancy.

With a bitter smile, taking a deep breath, Qin Chang Ge said: “May I ask who you are?”

“I am Little Red’s master.” The other party’s answer was quite definitive. His mud-sculpted body gleamed with gray light. “Passerby, you have disturbed me and Little Red.”

“Yes, I disturbed you and Little Red’s intimate moments. I’m truly sorry.” Qin Chang Ge said apologetically: “Actually, I didn’t see anything. Ah, please continue, continue.”

The other party chuckled, his nose area seeming to twitch as he said: “You’re very interesting… I smell a familiar scent… I think I’d better kill you after all.”

Qin Chang Ge tilted her head, helplessly saying to a “Little Red” above her head: “Could you change your angle and not look at my neckline—”

A cold light flashed. Qin Chang Ge’s black silk shot out from her hair, instantly flying and coiling, and with a swish she had swung to another tree!

Landing safely with incredible speed that left no time to react, Qin Chang Ge breathed a sigh of relief and was about to continue swinging away to escape this accursed man and snakes.

However, looking up, several very expressive snake eyes, with mysterious luster, continued staring intently.

The Little Reds had followed without missing a step, even in exactly the same positions as before. The one that had been looking at her neckline was still looking at her neckline.

Qin Chang Ge was somewhat bewildered. She already disliked the Little Reds, and on top of that, she least liked having her practice interrupted—how was she supposed to escape from Nanmin’s High Priest Yin Li?

How High Priest Yin would appear here, Qin Chang Ge could vaguely guess was related to the news that Ruiyi wasn’t dead, and probably also related to the coming battle. Her luck was truly terrible—even taking a shortcut could lead to encountering such a formidable opponent.

If she died here today, not only would it be unjust, but the consequences would be dire…

Probably sensing Qin Chang Ge’s anxiety, the Little Reds smugly raised their heads and began shrieking. Their voices were high and clear, actually in the tune of Nanmin mountain songs.

Snakes singing in the dark night by the swamp was truly horrifying.

In the singing, layers of muddy patterns appeared on Yin Li’s chaotic face, as if he too was smiling with pleasure, gently humming the tune.

While humming and chuckling softly: “Time for supper, my darlings.”

Immediately, hissing crimson tongues, dripping green-yellow liquid that gave off the putrid smell of thousand-year-old mud pools, approached the nearby Qin Chang Ge.

Qin Chang Ge smiled bitterly, prayed something, and honestly closed her eyes.

“BANG!”

Like a cannonball fired from a giant cannon, or a heavy arrow shot from a fully drawn bow, a black hurricane arrived with overwhelming momentum, with an incomparable fierce determination to smash seas if seas were ahead, to topple mountains if mountains were ahead, thundering forth!

Fallen leaves on the ground were violently swept up by the fierce wind, whooshing together into a mass then scattering with a crash, like a huge tattered cloak suddenly unfurled between heaven and earth, then instantly abandoned behind the streak-like figure.

Wherever that wind passed, tree branches trembled, and the Little Reds on the branches all shrank back.

Racing, lightning-fast, the person hadn’t yet arrived when a long sword in mid-air was drawn, showing brilliant light like a full moon. In a flash it crossed the sky, faster than its wielder’s body, shooting straight toward Yin Li’s throat!

Yin Li looked up and reached out to catch the sharp, cold blade with his fingers.

But that person suddenly flipped, head down and feet up, thrusting the long sword forcefully into the swamp. Large amounts of mud immediately rose like a black wall, standing before Yin Li!

In just that instant of blocked vision, that person had already shot back dramatically. His retreat was even more imposing than his charge. The fallen leaves that had finally settled swirled up again with a whoosh. In the swirling leaves, that person pointed and shouted: “Burn those snakes for me!”

Qin Chang Ge shouted at the same time: “Those snakes aren’t afraid of fire, use water!”

After speaking, she was stunned. Where was there water at this time?

But that person didn’t hesitate and shouted again:

“Take off your clothes and urinate!”