The hill where Nanny Qin stood belonged to neither Da Zhou nor Western Jing.
It lay in the middle ground between them—further west lay the Western Jing border pass; further east, Da Zhou’s own border.
Having only just managed to escape Da Zhou’s border, there was no possibility of turning back now—that would be the most dangerous path of all. And from this place, the only way into Western Jing territory was through the border gate up ahead.
Had Han Ziqing and her group arrived even a little later, at Nanny Qin’s pace, they would have already reached the border gate by now. Unfortunately, Han Ziqing had arrived at exactly the wrong moment for them.
“Nanny, no wonder Prince Li is so fond of her—look how meticulous her thinking is,” a guard beside her said with a smile, watching the soldiers along Da Zhou’s border line right alongside Nanny Qin.
More and more soldiers kept arriving, one after another—and a good number of archers among them too.
Though Han Ziqing hadn’t caught up with them, she clearly hadn’t fully convinced herself that they’d already crossed into Western Jing either.
She was hedging her bets.
And with so many guards now stationed there, if they came down the hill and made for the Western Jing border gate, they’d inevitably be spotted crossing this stretch of open grassland.
Now, Nanny Qin and her group could go neither west, nor east, nor south.
Their only option left was to continue northwest.
But heading northwest from here, they’d soon find themselves in Western Chu territory.
To circle from Western Chu back into Western Jing, they’d have to pass through Xiongnu lands, through the Northern Desert region.
That would be the safest route, but also by far the longest—at the very least, it would take two months.
The longer Nanny Qin considered it, the more complicated her expression became. She was hesitating over whether to take the risk.
Just then, Yelu Qianqian climbed down from the carriage.
She had no idea what had just happened. Trapped and jolted around inside the sealed carriage for over an hour, she could finally catch her breath.
The moment she stepped down, she immediately recognized where she was—this was the Twin Realm Mountains, a place she knew intimately. They had already left Da Zhou.
Yelu Qianqian anxiously looked toward the southwest and immediately spotted the towering, majestic gates of the Western Jing border pass. She asked urgently, “Why have we stopped?”
“Look there!” Nanny Qin said with a smile, pointing toward a streak of white racing across the grassland.
Yelu Qianqian followed her gaze and only then noticed someone racing across the open grass between the two borders, heading from Da Zhou toward Western Jing.
Whether one stood on Da Zhou’s border line, or at Western Jing’s gate, or on the very hill where they now stood, everything happening on that small stretch of grassland was plainly visible from any vantage point.
In other words, if they came down the hill and rushed toward Western Jing’s border gate, they too would be seen clearly by everyone.
This was precisely the risk Nanny Qin had been weighing. As for Yelu Qianqian, the moment she saw that streak of white, a faint, indefinable sense of familiarity stirred in her—she couldn’t quite place it, just a vague, lingering feeling, nothing more.
Who could that be?
She couldn’t help but wonder to herself—but just then, Nanny Qin turned her body, making her look back toward Da Zhou instead. What she saw made her gasp.
Beneath the northwestern forest they had just left, the ground was thick with archers, row upon row of them in perfect formation, bows drawn and ready to loose.
“Were we… just spotted?” she finally murmured, the realization dawning on her.
“Da Zhou’s own Princess Consort of Prince Yao came chasing after us in person. That road is closed to us now,” Nanny Qin said flatly, though inwardly she was full of suspicion, her thoughts entirely consumed with worry over Prince Li, leaving no room to pay attention to the girl beside her.
But now, there really was a question she could no longer avoid asking.
“Girl, didn’t you elope with Situ Haonan? Why did you come running back on your own?” Nanny Qin asked.
But Yelu Qianqian hadn’t heard a word of it. Unbidden, Han Ziqing’s perpetually cold face rose in her mind—along with the image of her own eyes, swollen for days from crying and still not healed—and her eyes reddened once more.
Was it possible that even Ziqing had hardened her heart completely, that she’d rather see her dead than let her go?
Suddenly, Yelu Qianqian laughed—a bitter, self-mocking laugh. How could she have forgotten? Back when she’d shamelessly begged Han Ziqing to be her friend, Ziqing had always insisted they could never be friends.
She was Da Zhou’s princess consort; Yelu Qianqian was Western Jing’s princess. There would come a day they might be allies, and a day they might become enemies—but never, ever, a day they would be friends.
So that was what it meant, all along.
She had chosen Western Jing—which meant Ziqing and Situ Haonan now had no choice left but to… kill her.
Yelu Qianqian could no longer even register the white streak racing across the grassland. Her whole body went numb, and she stared blankly at the archers lined along Da Zhou’s border, her eyes hollow.
Nanny Qin, of course, cared about the war between Western Jing and Western Liang too—it would directly affect Da Zhou, and in turn, Great Qin.
But what concerned her far more was the whereabouts of her Prince Li.
“Pack up. We’ll enter Western Chu, cross through Xiongnu territory, and circle around through the Northern Desert before doubling back,” Nanny Qin said flatly.
But one of the guards spoke up in a low voice. “Nanny, why go through so much trouble? Let’s just charge through—we might not lose. Western Jing’s border guards aren’t necessarily any match for Da Zhou’s.”
Nanny Qin only smiled at that. “And why would I hand Han Ziqing that opportunity?”
“Nanny, forgive this one’s dullness, but I don’t quite follow…”
“Han Ziqing doesn’t look like someone who’s come to kill—she looks like someone who’s come to find a person. War has broken out across Da Zhou’s Northern Frontier; this region can’t afford chaos right now. Han Ziqing isn’t just searching for someone—she’s here to hold the Western Border,” Nanny Qin said coldly. Having spent years at the side of Great Qin’s Empress, even without formal study, she’d absorbed no small understanding of state affairs and warfare simply through exposure, and she could read between the lines well enough.
If her guess was right, Yelu Qianqian had come to stop the war, and Han Ziqing had come to stop her from doing so.
Circling through the Northern Desert and reaching Akbachu would take two months at most—and two months was plenty of time to accomplish a great deal.
“If Prince Li’s lifelong dream can never be fulfilled, then at the very least, I’ll destroy Da Zhou in his place,” Nanny Qin said, her gaze suddenly turning sinister.
With that, she turned and walked away.
Yelu Qianqian stood there like a wooden doll, letting the guards push her back into the carriage.
Nanny Qin didn’t ride a horse—she climbed into the carriage instead. If Han Ziqing hadn’t come chasing after them, perhaps she wouldn’t have thought this far ahead. But as things stood now, she really did need to sit this girl down and ask her exactly what had happened.
Nanny Qin, after all, was someone who had seen every shade of life there was to see—she’d eaten far more salt than this young girl had eaten rice.
Watching Yelu Qianqian’s blank, numb expression, she understood at once that the girl still held real affection for Han Ziqing—otherwise she wouldn’t look this utterly despairing.
“Girl, did both your man and your friend abandon you? So now you finally appreciate the good of your own home?”
The moment Nanny Qin said this, Yelu Qianqian glanced at her—the words striking straight at her pain—and burst into tears, throwing herself into the nanny’s arms.
Nanny Qin was in no hurry to press further. She gently patted the girl’s back, the corner of her mouth curving into a satisfied smile. She knew this girl would tell her everything, in time.