The moment Ziqing returned to the border camp, a sealed dispatch from Jun Beiyue arrived at once. Judging by the envelope, this was an urgent dispatch—surely carrying military matters that couldn’t wait.
Yet when Ziqing opened it, she found only a handful of words inside: “May you stay well, I think of you always. The weather turns cold—dress warmly. Take the greatest care of yourself.”
Just a few brief lines of well-wishes and greetings—sent by urgent dispatch.
Ziqing held the thin letter in her hands, and somehow it felt heavier than a thousand pounds. Though the sudden upheaval in the Northern Frontier had come so fast, she had still, all this while, felt as though he wasn’t really far from her—as if at any moment, if she turned her head, she might catch him standing right behind her again.
But this time, all he could do was send a letter.
This time, she truly felt what it meant to be apart from him.
On the back, Ziqing wrote a line of her own—just as brief. She reported that she was safe, nothing more. This wasn’t a military matter, wasn’t a war report—it was a letter that belonged only to the two of them. She said nothing else, only: I am well, my lord; I hope you are well too.
Once the letter was sent off, Yingzi, who had been shadowing her protectively all this while, finally spoke. “Your Highness, everything along the border has been arranged as ordered. Only… this subordinate feels that doing this—”
“It’s just an extra precaution,” Ziqing said calmly, spreading out a map as she spoke. “If they’ve already crossed into Western Jing territory, then it all depends on whether Situ Haonan can catch up with them, whether he can stop them. But if they’re still hiding somewhere along the border—whether they mean to circle around or force their way through—at the very least, this buys us some time, and gives us another chance to reach Yelu Qianqian.”
This map was one she’d copied from Jun Beiyue’s own—an extremely detailed one. As she spread it out, she also pulled out a collection of classical geographical and mythological texts.
This was her other purpose in coming to Western Jing: searching for mineral deposits.
Over these past two months, she’d gone through nearly every ancient text and geographical record she could get her hands on. In ancient times, people had no understanding of sulfur, and many natural phenomena, strange smells, and unusual soil compositions were attributed instead to the workings of chaotic forces and strange spirits. These old records, if read carefully, could still reveal traces of such things.
In Da Zhou’s Western Border, there stood a mountain the locals revered as sacred. According to the old texts, a fire god dwelled upon this mountain—if not properly worshipped on schedule, the fire god would grow enraged, and flames would erupt from the summit, burning their way down the mountainside and destroying everything below.
The moment Ziqing read this story, she immediately thought of a volcano. Judging by how infrequently this fire god supposedly grew “angry,” this had to be a dormant volcano.
And whether dormant or active, a volcano’s crater—and often the mountain itself—would almost certainly contain sulfur deposits.
Given her limited resources, she could only manufacture black gunpowder, which required three ingredients: saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal. Of the three, sulfur was by far the hardest to find.
As she studied the map, Ziqing gestured for Bingchan, the leader of her mercenaries, to come over.
“Take the craftsmen to this location. Use the methods I taught you before to survey and begin extraction. Get it done as quickly as possible,” Ziqing instructed seriously.
Bingchan studied the map carefully, then immediately went off to carry out the order.
Seeing this, Yingzi’s heart leapt with delight. “Your Highness, you found it?”
“Nine chances out of ten—unless what’s written in these old texts turns out to be false,” Ziqing said with a smile.
“It won’t be false. Every one of these texts was personally selected by His Highness! This subordinate will report it to the Northern Frontier at once, so His Highness can fight with an easy mind, and crush the Xiongnu to pieces—otherwise people really might think Da Zhou fears them!” Yingzi said, delighted, and hurried off.
Ziqing wasted no more time. She immediately summoned the army’s generals—no matter what, she needed to prepare for every contingency. Only once the Western Border defenses were properly arranged could she allow herself to leave.
Situ Haonan had gone on ahead as the vanguard; she needed to catch up with him as soon as she could…
Situ Haonan, disguised and carrying Nangong Manor’s invitation as proof of his identity as a martial artist, found it relatively easy to cross the border under that guise.
Once across, he didn’t linger, heading straight for Akbachu. By the time night fell deep and silent, Ziqing was still in the camp, discussing every possible defensive strategy with her generals, leaving nothing to chance.
Everything moved forward under tense preparation. Meanwhile, elsewhere, Nanny Qin spent an entire day talking with Yelu Qianqian inside the carriage as their convoy raced onward without pause.
Across the whole of the Western Border, aside from Western Liang’s cavalry steadily closing in, all remained relatively calm.
Except for one place, which was not calm at all.
Just outside Akbachu, not far to the northwest, the sound of “bang, bang, bang” against a wall shattered whatever peace the night might have held.
“Are you going to open this door or not!”
“You old fossil, I’m warning you—open this door, or I’ll flatten this whole stretch of desert!”
“Open up! You lying, oath-breaking wretch, open this door right now!”
…
Amid the earth-shaking pounding and the furious cursing, Baili Weisheng stood cloaked head to toe in black, his face hidden beneath the hood—but it was unmistakably clear, even without seeing his face, that he was absolutely livid.
That old wretch Sha Qiuzi had actually betrayed him—had told Jun Beiyue the truth, that he was the elder of the Poison Den—and thrown every one of his plans into chaos!
He’d originally planned to lie low comfortably in the shadows, watching everyone else’s struggles, occasionally showing himself to lend a hand when the mood struck him.
But now, Jun Beiyue had the Poison Den as leverage over him, forcing him into obedience. He’d barely managed to slip away, and now he had to live in constant fear, with no idea what Jun Beiyue might do to the Poison Den in retaliation.
And all of this—all of it—was because of that faithless old fossil Sha Qiuzi!
The moment Baili Weisheng left Yaoshun Island, he’d come straight here.
Of course, beneath all his boiling fury, his true purpose was Yanzi.
He cursed as he kicked, again and again, viciously, at the massive stone gate of Sha Qiuzi’s dwelling—who knew how much internal energy he was putting into each kick, but every blow made the stone door shudder.
At this rate, the door really would come crashing down.
And yet, even so, whoever was inside remained utterly unmoved. Baili Weisheng had been furious for days now, and not a single word had come from within.
Finally, Baili Weisheng stopped. He yanked back his hood in one sharp motion, revealing a clean, handsome face twisted with as dark a scowl as could be. His eyes narrowed, and without warning he kicked again—and this time, the stone door crashed down with a deafening boom!
But what met Baili Weisheng’s eyes was an empty stone chamber. The room that had once been packed full of medicinal herbs was now completely bare.
Baili Weisheng froze for a moment, then understood at once—Sha Qiuzi had fled long ago!
“Damn it!” Baili Weisheng spat, stamping his foot down hard in fury—just once—and in that instant, with a series of thunderous crashes, the entire adjacent chamber, the hidden clinic next door, collapsed all at once!
After being kicked for so many days straight, it was a wonder it hadn’t collapsed sooner.
Baili Weisheng didn’t so much as glance at the wreckage. He pulled his hood back up, concealing that face as pure as a lotus yet as furious as a demon, turned, and headed toward Akbachu.
He figured that with Jun Beiyue and Xiao Qingqing both consumed by the war, they likely wouldn’t have the time or attention to spare for matters on the isolated island. Perhaps he really should just go into hiding for a while.
The Xiongnu were invading Da Zhou—and though he feared nothing else under heaven, the one thing he truly feared was the Xiongnu.