Dawn had fully broken. Ziqing sat slumped atop the empty hilltop, a flicker of shock in her chest — her thousand elite troops had vanished overnight, and to move an entire army that swiftly, especially a White Tiger army, there was surely only one man in this world who could pull it off.
The three-day agreement had long since expired; the authority she’d wielded had already far exceeded that limit. That Jun Beiyue had left with the army without a word — could something truly have gone wrong at the front?
Though she harbored her own private motive to kill Jun Beiyao, she’d still kept the bigger picture in mind. She’d left twenty thousand elite troops and the White Tiger General to hold the Three Realms — that was more than enough.
Of the ten thousand she’d taken, nine thousand remained stationed in the west, waiting for the crisis at the front to force Jun Beiyao to redeploy troops. Once the three western cities stood empty, those nine thousand elite soldiers would seize the opening at once!
Jun Beiyue had promised — first to take a city, first claim to the fief. She couldn’t kill Jun Beiyao, but she would absolutely not let him walk away with such an easy prize.
Her read on Western Chu had proven accurate — once the internal rebellion settled, Da Zhou’s White Tiger forces would inevitably fall back to hold the Second River City, and what Jun Beiyue truly wanted was likely just the first two cities anyway.
What exactly was Jun Beiyue thinking now — coming back and leaving her not a single soldier, not even a word?
Just as Ziqing puzzled over this, movement stirred on the opposite hilltop — they were breaking camp. And not far off, a massive column of cavalry approached in full force!
The mountain path between these two hilltops led straight to the southern gate of Second River City. If reinforcements were passing through here, they were certainly headed there.
So the front truly was in trouble, and Jun Beiyao was rushing over to claim his share of the credit alongside Jun Beiyue.
Ziqing hurriedly tightened the cloth binding her wound, pressed a hand against her badly injured stomach, and after a long moment, drew a deep, steadying breath and forced herself to her feet.
With Jun Beiyue there, she could set her mind at ease. She’d already shifted all the blame onto Jun Beiyao anyway — as for the three days of entrusted command, she hadn’t let him down in the least.
Now, it was time to see to her own business. The three western cities — the fief that was to be Jun Beiyao’s prize — she intended to swallow whole.
“Whoosh—”
At a long whistle, the blood-sweating warhorse burst from the trees, galloping toward her in high spirits, its long face nuzzling affectionately against her again and again.
“Horse, oh horse — the whole world may abandon me, but you’re the one friend who always comes when called,” Ziqing said with a smile, gently patting the horse’s face and stroking its long muzzle before swinging up into the saddle and riding hard in the opposite direction from the advancing army.
Ziqing had originally assumed the battle for Second River City would be resolved quickly, but to her surprise, the fighting dragged on for five full days and nights before the two sides finally reached a stalemate. Every force Western Chu had — those originally resisting the White Tiger army, plus the troops that had been putting down the rebellion in the southeast and southwest — had all converged here. No wonder Jun Beiyue had needed to take that thousand elite troops!
The White Tiger army numbered only twenty thousand, and Jun Beiyao’s reinforcements amounted to no more than thirty thousand — and that was after he’d left ten thousand behind to hold the three western cities!
Separated by nothing but a single city gate, the two sides’ forces were hopelessly mismatched, and with Western Chu’s reinforcements steadily growing, if not for Jun Beiyue, Second River City would surely have already fallen.
Over those five days, Ziqing personally led troops into battle, charging the front lines herself. Her nine thousand White Tiger soldiers easily overwhelmed the ten thousand Western Frontier troops, seizing all three western cities for themselves — and to this day, not a word of it had leaked out.
She was very much looking forward to seeing the look on Jun Beiyao’s face when he found out.
This particular grudge was meant to be settled privately between them. If he dared reveal the truth, she’d have no qualms announcing his humiliation to the whole world.
Dressed in white riding attire, her black hair bound high, back straight, hands clasped behind her, Ziqing stood atop the towering city gate — from a distance, if not for her slight frame, one might easily mistake her silhouette for yet another battle-hardened general among Jun Beiyue’s White Tiger ranks.
Gazing north at the open expanse, she thought that once the two armies settled into stalemate, one side would surely be forced to sue for peace before long.
Which meant the war itself was drawing toward its end.
At that thought, Ziqing couldn’t help but wonder — would Jun Beiyue return to the capital? Just how vast were that man’s ambitions, really?
But whether he returned or not, whether his ambitions were vast or not, none of it seemed to make much difference to her either way.
Her injured hand still hadn’t fully healed, but facing this bleak, desolate northern winter, Ziqing found herself thinking, unbidden, of that piece whose very opening carried the sorrow of the whole world — Lishang.
Was its original owner, Xuanyuan Lige, doing well these days?
“Hongyi, bring me Wuzheng,” Ziqing said flatly, suddenly wanting to play. Lishang didn’t look sorrowful on the surface at all — and yet, once played, it could pierce straight into the heart.
She wanted to know just how much sorrow lay hidden within a piece that took three days and three nights to play in full — and more than that, she wanted to know exactly how far into it she herself could go.
“Clang…” The first note rang out — and at that very moment, a familiar voice suddenly spoke. “Princess Yao is in quite the mood!”
Ziqing’s fingers froze on the strings. She turned, brow furrowing, to find Jun Beiyue standing not far off, travel-worn, his long hair sweeping in the wind, watching her with amusement.
At a time like this, this man had actually shown up here!
“Your Highness must have a lot of free time,” Ziqing said flatly, lowering her head to gather up the sheet music.
Jun Beiyue approached and caught sight at once of the fake scorpion-shaped ring on her finger. He bent down suddenly, seizing her hand, an amused curve touching his lips.
“Prince Yao, wandering hands are a bad habit to keep!” Ziqing said coldly, jerking her hand back — but his grip only tightened.
Ziqing turned to glare at him coldly. “What are you doing?”
It seemed she could never stay calm whenever this man was around. Heaven only knew how she’d managed to keep her composure back at the Prince Yao estate.
“Three days of full command, and you seized three cities in the west, helping this prince outmaneuver the Seventh Prince. Han Ziqing, your first mission — beautifully done,” Jun Beiyue said, smiling, clearly in good spirits.
“Western Chu is suing for peace?” Ziqing said, startled. That had happened so fast!
“Word has come that Chu Tiange isn’t dead after all — he’s trapped somewhere in the Wuxie Ravine. Western Chu’s emperor is scrambling to send troops to rescue him,” Jun Beiyue said with a cold smile.
Ziqing understood at once. If that news hadn’t come from Jun Beiyue himself, who else could it have come from? Finding a person in a place like the Wuxie Ravine in such a short time would genuinely require mobilizing an army.
“Is Chu Tiange truly still alive?” Ziqing asked, suspicious.
“No body’s been found. This prince can’t say for certain,” Jun Beiyue said, still holding her hand, his fingertips beginning to trace lightly over it. Ziqing started slightly and glanced down — he was tracing the fake ring on her finger.
“This ring is quite finely made,” Jun Beiyue said with a smile, his sharp eyes fixed on her.
Ziqing flinched back on reflex, about to explain, but Jun Beiyue slowly slid the ring off her finger, holding her hand with one grip while turning the ring over thoughtfully with the other.
Ziqing tried to pull her hand free, but the moment she moved even slightly, his grip tightened. He held the ring up beside her finger, comparing, and said with a smile, “It suits you, actually — soft strength beneath. Playing the zither with this on would only sharpen that cold elegance of yours even more.”
Was such flattery just meant to sting worse?
Ziqing decided to simply ignore it, saving her strength for whatever trouble he was about to cause. Forging this ring, and worse, using it to fool his own White Tiger troops — heaven only knew how this difficult man would dock her pay for it.
To her surprise, Jun Beiyue slid the ring back onto her finger himself and said with a smile, “It’s yours now.”
He let go of her hand and turned to leave — and only then did Ziqing notice how heavy her finger suddenly felt.
This ring was no longer her fake one — somehow, at some point, it had been swapped for the real thing!
Without even thinking, Ziqing rose and blurted out, “Jun Beiyue, I don’t want your things!”